


The Crown Prince

by Unknownmusic



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 78,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknownmusic/pseuds/Unknownmusic
Summary: Firelord Azulon had been furious at his second son. What right did Ozai have to demand the throne when his own brother had just suffered a loss? He delivered Ozai's punishment, but eavesdropping Azula hadn't liked what she had heard and twisted the truth. What if her lies had never taken root and the true punishment had been carried out as planned?Transferred from FFnet. Events mentioned in the comic "The Search" do not occur in this story's universe.





	1. Prologue: Opening

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything that would get me sued. 
> 
> Also, please note that I am in school and therefore my updating schedule will be erratic. Large time gaps do not mean that I am never going to update again; I just might need more time between certain chapters than others. Thank you for understanding!

**Prologue: Opening**

Zuko laughed as slim fingers found their way around his arms and attacked his sides, rendering him a ticklish mess in the soft spring grass. As he lie on the earth laughing, he could hear his mother's amused chuckles just beside his ears and a content flame sparked in his chest. It was at times like this he thought everything right in the world. The sun blazed fiercely above and the strong branches of the family courtyard tree gently shaded them as the small pond splashed with turtleduck activity. They were happy. Happy and away from the typical protocol that was normally demanded of them. But even Zuko knew that all good things came to an end and such was the case as his sister abruptly appeared behind his mother with a sneer of disdain marring her otherwise immaculate face.

"Wasting time again, Zuzu?"

Zuko suddenly didn't feel like laughing anymore. "Shut up, Azula."

"Zuko!" his mother scolded. "You know better than to speak to your sister that way!"

Azula coolly raised her eyebrows, knowing she had gotten to him again.

"And you, young lady, should know not to provoke your brother."

"But he's just so easy to bait," Azula shrugged. "No wonder father thinks you're completely useless."

Zuko felt a stone plummet in his stomach and he suddenly felt slightly sick.

"Azula! We need to have a talk. Now!"

Zuko's sister obviously wanted to do anything but. But she understood the system, the hierarchy. Her mother had the upper hand…for now.

Before walking away with her daughter, Princess Ursa turned towards her beloved son and said, "Your sister was just teasing you, Zuko. Your father doesn't –"

"Yes," Zuko interrupted. "I know." But he didn't, and that single uncertainty destroyed any hope of a good day. No, it wasn't even an uncertainty anymore. Zuko had seen the disappointment and contempt in his father's eyes too many times to think his sister merely teasing. Deep down, he knew his father despised him but hope of redemption and rising to his father's standards continued to bleed in his soul. In his mind, his father loved him just as his mother did. But he had to be stricter, firmer, in order to ensure Zuko never tarnished the family name and honor. At least, that's what Zuko always told himself. As his father's heir, Zuko had to reach high expectations and that was where he failed.

Zuko felt his throat constrict painfully and he walked away from his mother and his  _perfect_  sister. Oh, he knew the rumors, the gossip. He knew how the rest of the nobility and military generals spoke amongst themselves about how his sister excelled at everything she did. He knew how they spoke of her excellent marks in class and how she was such a prodigy with her firebending. A natural, they said. A born princess.

Zuko, on the other hand, was often the object of their laughter and their insults. What was he, compared to his sister? He was no genius, they chuckled. Even their own children would fare better. His studies were poor and he had only created his first flame a mere year before. Eight, they murmured. No child in Sozin's line had ever begun so late. Not even lowly peasants ever found their first spark at such a shameful age. Azula had created her first at four and sped through her studies. Zuko stumbled in everything he did. Almost nothing ever came naturally to him. Pity, they would say, that Azula hadn't been born first. All Prince Ozai had for an heir now was a mess-up.

Zuko wanted, more than anything, to prove them all wrong. But he couldn't no matter how hard he tried. Firebending katas took him days to learn, not minutes like it took Azula. His mind always wandered in tutoring sessions and he constantly cringed when taught where best to permanently strike down an enemy. His mother said it was his greatest virtue. His father said it made him weak. His sister just laughed and soaked up the lessons, enraptured.

At times, his only comfort in the world was his mother. She never turned him away with a clipped refusal or proclaimed him a failure again and again. She would stroke his hair and tell him stories. She would say that, no matter what, she would always love him. Azula teased him for it but Zuko honestly could have cared less. It was the one thing he didn't lose his fiery temper at because he knew that no amount of taunts could ever override his mother's love.

She would always be there for him. She had promised.

Zuko sighed to himself as his mother walked away with his sister and tried to console himself with the idea of Azula's upcoming a scolding. Azula got away with so many things it was almost comforting to see her being punished for once. He watched their disappearing forms for a moment more before turning away and heading into the East Wing of the Inner Palace.

The Royal Palace was situated at the heart of the Fire Nation's largest dormant volcano. It was neatly hidden among a string of other rocky mountains helping to create the many islands that constituted the dragon children's' land. It might have been the largest  _volcano,_ but other mountaintops devoid of snow or ice were easily taller. One would have to search each island individually in order to discover the capital's true location. Even once found, a plethora of firebenders and weapon masters alike protected the city. It was the most protected region in the entire nation because the Royal Palace was at the core.

The palace itself consisted of four main "rings". The outer ring was where the greatest artists and scholars resided. The third ring was home to the imperial firebenders, second only in skill to the Great Names ("nobles" was what the Earth Kingdom people called them, Zuko had heard), who lived in the second ring, and the royal family. The very inner core of the palace was dedicated to the royal family and the Fire Lord's throne room/war room.

Zuko had spend the majority of his life inside the innermost rings of the palace, but after his seventh birthday two years ago, he had been allowed to venture out into the city – with an extensive entourage of guards protecting him the whole way. Zuko wasn't stupid. He had grown up in the intricate thornwork of imperial politics and, while he had yet to completely understand most of it, he knew that it was a vicious competition to gain influence. He knew that even a child of the Fire Lord's second son was high on the list of potential assassinations. Zuko had grown up knowing this, preparing for any circumstance since his fourth birthday. Yet he couldn't help but wish he had been able to see the city unhindered. He had only been able to see the buildings (small in comparison to his home) and a mass of bowing heads. He had wanted to see the city in its natural state and explore but that had been impossible for him.

The East Wing of the royal family's ring was where Zuko and Azula met and studied with their private tutors. Zuko wasn't scheduled for a lesson for another half hour, but he had little else to do. His mother had insisted he finish his assignments the night before already and he still didn't have enough control of his inner fire in order to practice his firebending freely yet. It had been his greatest shame to create his first spark only at eight and it irritated him to no end that he was still on the basics while his sister was already on the forms.

Zuko huffed and crossed his arms as he fell into one of the soft, feather-stuffed sitting pillows in the "study room". Well, he could practice breathing techniques on his own and now was as good a time as any to do so. He frowned at the boring prospect of the respiratory exercise but closed his eyes and took his first deep breath. He knew how important this would be in the future. He had mastered extinguishing flames and that had been painful to learn. But now he had to learn to not only put out, but to also control his fire so that he would never need to put out his own flames. If he remained in control, his fire would never get out of hand and such restraining techniques of quenching one's flames would be needless.

It took him far longer to get into the rhythm of breathing than it took his sister. She would easily fall into the pattern while he had to sit for a few minutes before he was even able to get his breaths even. Zuko was getting better at it, but when he tried to maintain his breathing rate with candles before him, he still couldn't do even that. It was frustrating.

He had finally gotten into his own inner breathing pattern when quick steps broke his concentration and he opened startled eyes to stare into the eyes of his history tutor.

"Prepared for today's lesson, my lord?"

Zuko knew the mocking in the tutor's tone at the words "my lord" but he didn't comment on it. What could he do about it? His mother would smile and offer him her kindness but she could do little else. His father would scoff and tell him to toughen up. Zuko had learned long ago how to deal with disdain on his own.

At Zuko's nod, his tutor immediately said, "Very well. Now please explain to me how Sozin went about during his first campaign…"

~0~

Zuko came stumbling out of the East Wing four hours later with his head fit to burst. History, numbers, strategy, calligraphy, and politics had been quite a lot to take in. He had taken notes, of course, but he knew that unless he went back and rewrote them now, he would forget the lessons but tomorrow morning. It was a pain in the rear end, really, but he what had to be done had to be done. His sister could walk in and out knowing every little detail with only a single scroll of simple notes to assist her memory.

Again, life wasn't fair.

Zuko meandered down the hallways and eased himself into his bedroom. It was furnished with a large bed at the center with silk ruby sheets and a silk pillow. A canopy encompassed the bed and drapes were neatly tied to the wooden posts, ready to be drawn at the mere pull of a rope. A variety of weapons from his time under Master Piandao's tutelage decorated the majority of the left wall while a wooden desk with several bookshelves surrounding it occupied the right side of the room. A single, large wardrobe adorned the back wall but it only housed his robes. The majority of his clothes were held elsewhere where the servants would choose each outfit daily and dress him every morning. His mother occasionally withheld such services, though, in order to ensure that he knew how to dress himself should the necessary occasion arise. Although why she bothered Zuko didn't know. She never made Azula do such a thing and he knew. Her bedroom was directly adjacent to his and he would have known if she had woken up irritated in the morning, forced to dress herself.

Zuko walked over to his desk and deposited his many scrolls of notes on it. He groaned at the sight and briefly contemplated a quick nap before the sheer amount of work finally convinced him to discard his brief contemplation. If he didn't do it now, he would have to do it later and what if later held something important? No, better to do it now.

Zuko sighed and settled down before unrolling his first scroll and dipping his brush into black ink.

Penmanship and prose had, oddly enough, been one of the few things Zuko had actually picked up quickly. He could easily compose haikus on the spot or write a whole scroll's length of speech and articulation of certain subjects. It would have been impressive had he been a scholar's son or a female. But as it was, Zuko was almost embarrassed to have such aptitude for a subject a young prince shouldn't have in spades. The only bright side to it all was the fact that he could fly through his writing and composing assignments. It gave him a twinge of pride whenever he watched Azula almost struggling with hers.

Two hours later of recopying notes and completing his writing for the day, Zuko strode out to the courtyard where his firebending master waited. He both loved and dreaded these lessons with a passion. Love because he was finally studying his home element, his nation's pride. Dread because he was lacking in talent and often had to deal with being the butt of his master's contempt.

His firebending teacher was an old general who had served before Uncle took over. Azula studied under Father and that sent all sorts of jealousy through Zuko. It stung to watch his  _younger_  sibling do so well.

The aging man waiting in the courtyard turned severe, amber eyes Zuko's way as he approached.

"Late again?"

Zuko flinched and silently berated himself for being so lax. He had always been able to feel where the sun was despite his lack of bending before two years prior. Even his father had been slightly astonished to learn that Zuko could already sense the sun's position back when he had babbled it out as a side comment at the age of three. Zuko couldn't remember a time he didn't rise with the sun. Azula had only begun to do so at four after she created her first spark.

"I apologize, Master," Zuko formally said while bowing and forming the Flame with his hands. "I was forgetful."

"No surprise there," the old general sneered. "A  _real_  firebender would never have forgotten the sun."

Zuko struggled to keep his blush down. "Forgive me, Master."

"Show me perfect breathing form for once and I will consider it."

So that was a "no". Both of them knew that Zuko was nowhere near perfect with his breathing exercises yet. But Zuko refused to quail in the face of challenge and he promptly settled into a meditating position with his hands upon his knees.

_In. Out. In. Out. In. Out._ Slowly, Zuko reminded himself. He had to breathe slowly else his pattern and inner balance deteriorate. It was difficult for him to maintain a strict hold on the fire that  _begged_  to break free of its bonds and envelop everything. It was difficult for him to deny it when he so badly wanted it himself. He loved that fire, just as every firebender loved their own inner flame. At least this didn't hurt though. It had hurt when he had first learned to stifle his flame. This was more of an ache deep within his soul more than anything else.

Zuko felt a rush of elation as his silent control paid off. He suddenly felt his inner fire lock in time with his breath and the flame's desperate urge to escape its bonds slowly ebbed and took comfort in moving with Zuko's now-steady chi flow. Zuko could sense the energy moving slowly throughout his body and the energy settled deep within his bones like a warm bath. He sat in fierce concentration for a few minutes more before a single maple leaf from the tree nearby was placed into his lap. He didn't need the general to tell him what to do next. This was the part of the breathing control he had yet to do successfully.

Zuko gingerly picked p the leaf between two fingers while maintaining his breath. So far so good. It was usually at this transition he fumbled. He got distracted and his chi flow would stutter and flow out of control again.

After making sure the leaf was completely secure, Zuko allowed his flame to spark to life and, ever so slowly, a hole began to burn at the leaf's center.

A wave of relief flowed through Zuko and an excited smile broke out on his face. He was doing it! He was in enough control of his breath and chi to  _slowly_  burn the leaf! If he could do this, he would be able to study with Father soon and make him proud and all the imperial residents wouldn't gossip about him anymore and  _maybe_  he could finally catch up to his sister and –

Zuko let out a startled yelp as the leaf abruptly burst into flame.

"Keep your concentration!" his firebending teacher snapped. "It will do you no good to pride yourself in something so  _trivial_  and lose your head! Most  _peasant_  firebenders are capable of doing this by the age of eight!"

This time, Zuko didn't even try to hide his reddening cheeks. He shouldn't have lost his concentration to something as silly as dreams. Because that's what they were: dreams. Nothing more. They were just ethereal clouds of hope slipping from his fingers. His sister didn't have dreams because she didn't need them; she had everything she  _could_  dream about. Zuko had dreams. So many. But that was all they would ever be.

It was stupid of him to even think he could catch up to his sister or stop the other imperial families from speaking about him behind his back. His sister was a prodigy. He had seen one of her lessons once, her very first one. She had been brilliant. The breathing forms he had just been working on? She had gotten them down in  _one day._  The spark of pride his father had never shown him had blazed like the brightest fire Zuko had ever seen that day.

He never watched another one of Azula's lessons again.

But Zuko wouldn't cry no matter how much he wished to. Not in the middle of the courtyard where his so-called master could see and prying noble eyes could sneakily catch. No. Crying was weakness. It produced water and water was fire's natural enemy. Perhaps when he was alone and in a room…

No. Not even then. Zuko knew better than that. He was old enough to know that. Nobody cried at his age.

Then again, nobody created their first spark at eight either.

Zuko took in a deep, agonizing breath before he tried to get his inner fire back under control.

_I might not be able to have my dreams, but that won't stop me from trying._

~0~

It was that pleasant time again. His mother had found some time off from her duties assisting Father and Zuko was free for the remainder of the day. He had been fiercely working on his inner control and his other assignments but he could only go so long before his mind began to wander. His mother had teasingly poked her head in his room just a few minutes before to liberate him from the monotony. Zuko had jumped at the chance to escape for a little while and now quietly strolled alongside his mother around the perimeter of the family courtyard.

"How have your classes been, Zuko?" his mother asked with a gentle smile.

That smile always sent a warm happiness through his stomach. It showed that he was loved in this world and appreciated. "They're alright. I'm doing well in prose and calligraphy."

Princess Ursa raised her eyebrows. "And firebending? I can remember the very first day you began your lessons. You were so eager then. You still mention them now, Zuko, but I have been hearing less. Is there something wrong?"

Trust his mother to catch on. "No, Mom." Zuko hesitated the smallest fraction before saying firmly, "I'm doing fine."

Agni, Zuko wanted more than anything for that to be true, but he couldn't just go and whine to his mother anymore. He was nine years old! He could resolve his own problems. He had to. He never wanted to think about it, but if his mother were not here to help him as often as he needed it, who  _would_  offer him a hand? The answer was simple: nobody. Zuko knew he would have to handle himself because he had known since he was four that after Uncle Iroh, Lu Ten, and Father, he was the next in line for the throne. Fourth in line. It wasn't as far as it seemed to be, not in a nation where battles to the death were almost common.

His mother frowned, but didn't question her son any further. It made Zuko inwardly sigh with relief. As much as he liked to sound the determined independent, he knew that if his mother had pushed, he would have said something eventually. Spirits, he didn't like to admit it, but his mother could be more intimidating than a dillo-lion on a rampage when she wanted something.

Zuko was irritated when Azula suddenly ran up from playing cartwheels in the courtyard. It was always her to disturb his time with Mother.

"Mom, can Zuko play a game with us? We  _are_  brother and sister after all and isn't it important to spend time together?"

Oh, Zuko knew that sickly sweet smile from a mile away. He knew this so called "game" could mean nothing more than trouble. "I'm  _not_  playing cartwheels with you and Ty Lee."

"Zuko," his mother frowned. "I think it's a great idea to play with your sister."

"But Mom –"

"Only for a little bit, Zuko," Princess Ursa said with all the might a mother could muster.

Zuko sighed and grumbled to himself as he neatly jumped down from the pathway he had been walking on to follow his sister on the grass. He warily followed a good ten steps behind. After all, who knows what Azula was plotting now? For all he knew, she might "suggest" Ty Lee to practice her chi blocking on him again. It hadn't been so bad until the little smiley, pink girl had actually begun to hit more and more accurately. She was still a long way off from her family's legitimate technique yet, but she could occasionally paralyze him for a few minutes now and leave him with aching chi points for hours on end. He had tried to tell his mother about the "practice sessions" but even she had smiled and told him it was simply Azula's way of "playing". Surely, Mother had said, it was just harmless practice.

Needless to say, Zuko had become rather proficient in the art of dodging and more accustomed to the pain over time.

As Azula led him close to the fountain, he tensed as Ty Lee came skipping over only to relax as Mai sulked closely at her friend's heels. That was good sign. Azula never called Mai over to play when she was planning another "practice session".

Zuko's sister smirked for a brief moment and he knew that she had seen his tension. Of course, she had to gloat in that and the telltale smugness in his shoulders didn't disappear as she sauntered over to the nearby apple tree. She crisply plucked a large fruit from one of the lower branches and placed it upon Mai's head after commanding her to stand a ways off beside the fountain.

"You see the apple, right?" Azula asked. "Well this is how you play: you aim for it and try to hit it just like  _this_." She quickly shot a burst of flame from two fingers at the last word and hit the apple's stem with unerring precision.

Zuko spent a brief second boiling over his jealously at his sister's prowess before he realized that the apple was burning  _right on Mai's head_.

With a cry, he lunged at the government official's daughter and reached to shove the apple off her head and into the fountain. But he had miscalculated the height and instead of just sweeping the apple off her head, he ran into her and sent the both of them sprawling into the water.

Zuko had to blankly sit there for a moment before he realized that Azula and Ty Lee were laughing at him.

"Told you it would work," his sister snickered.

Anger soared at her words and he furiously shoved himself away from Mai and out of the fountain. What was Azula trying to prove anyway? Sure he had caught the sulky girl glancing at him from a distance several times with a faint blush to her cheeks. That didn't mean anything. He certainly didn't feel anything for her. As far as he was concerned, it was just plain creepy to see her doing stuff like that. It just irritated him to no end that his sister had recently taken a liking to exploiting Mai's reactions. It humiliated him and left him in situations like this one where his clothes were now soaking wet.

Zuko stormed away from the girls and swept past his mother shouting, "Girls are  _weird_!"

Indeed, they were. All of the ones he had gotten to know were either acrobatic creeps smiling far more than was healthy, sullen bookworms who took a queer liking to knives, or sisters who were cruel prodigies. The rest of them were just giggling daughters of nobility.

Zuko took a deep breath once he was back inside the palace and slowly exhaled, careful to maintain his inner fire under control as it dried both him and his clothes. He smiled a bit when nothing spontaneously caught on fire and continued his path into the hallways with a more sedate temper.

"Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," chuckled an older voice from one of the doorways.

Zuko jumped a bit before grinning in recognition. "Lu Ten!" He scrambled over to his cousin and gave him a squeeze around the middle with his arms. "You're back from the campaign!"

"It wasn't much," his older cousin laughed. "Just a few uprisings here and there around the colonies. This time Father didn't even have to worry about my men and me."

"You mean Uncle Iroh let you lead a campaign all on your own?" Zuko asked with wide eyes. "That's amazing!"

"It's my fifth campaign. I think I should be leading my own men alone now."

Zuko wrinkled his face. "I'm sure Uncle was just worrying a little about you."

"Everybody faces danger when going out on the battlefield," Lu Ten shrugged. "Father should recognize that by now." The older cousin gently unwrapped Zuko's arms and knelt down. "You've grown, haven't you?"

Zuko flushed. "You were only gone for a month. I didn't grow that much."

Lu Ten laughed and ruffled a hand through Zuko's black hair. "Kids your age grow pretty fast, Zuko. Look, I bet you're nearly to my waist now!"

Zuko laughed and teasingly punched his cousin. It was good to have Lu Ten back. He had always loved his cousin's company and when he had started to fight alongside his other countrymen during long periods of time, Zuko often felt as if a piece of the palace was suddenly missing. Lu Ten was like an older brother to him. Whenever he struggled with something, Lu Ten was there to help and he never looked at Zuko with disdain or anger. Lu Ten had been one of the very few in his life to not see him as a failure. Add the fact that he was a talented firebender at odds with Azula and that just made Lu Ten the best cousin ever.

"How have you been?" Lu Ten asked. "I'm sure you've been improving and getting into all kinds of trouble!"

Zuko knew that his cousin had been teasing, but at the mention of "trouble" he couldn't help the abrupt frown.

"What's wrong?"

"I – I still have trouble with my history, Lu Ten. And my firebending…"

It was relief to see that there was no sign of pity in his cousin's eyes. Pity was something Zuko detested and he was grateful to only see sadness in those larger eyes.

"You've been studying, yes?"

"You know I do. I…I just can't seem to get it."

"The history and the firebending?"

Zuko looked down at his feet and mumbled, "Well…okay maybe I need to study a little more on all my subjects but firebending…I was so  _excited_."

Understanding suddenly lit Lu Ten's eyes and he began to ruffle Zuko's hair again. "Well you need to study, little cousin. And I can always help you with firebending if you want."

Zuko lit up like the sun. "You would really do that?"

"Haven't I always?"

"Well…it's just that you just came back and you're probably tired and –"

An amused chuckle burst through Lu Ten's lips again and he stood up in one smooth movement. "Well, like I said, the campaign wasn't that difficult. I guess I just need to let loose some of that extra adrenaline I've been penning up."

_Best cousin_ ever _._

~0~

"I heard our dearest cousin came back today," Azula smirked form the doorway.

Zuko scowled as he untied his topknot and flopped lazily on to his bed. "Not like you bothered to say hello to him."

"Well how could I have possibly found the chance when you were so busy hogging him all day?"

"Jealous?"

Azula laughed in a condescending manner that sent Zuko's nerves on edge. "Please, I don't need his help. Father already told me that I'm progressing far faster than our cousin ever did. He might be talented, but I'm a  _prodigy_ , Zuko. I'll catch up to his tea loving kookiness's son before long."

"Then why did you even bother asking about him?" Zuko snarled. He hated it when Azula brought up her obvious genius when he was still so far behind. Even more than that, he hated it when she talked about Lu Ten like this. She had no right. His cousin was a genius too. All of Sozin's line was…except, apparently, for Zuko.

"Come now, we're brother and sister. Surely I can just talk to you before bedtime?"

Yeah right. It was more likely to suddenly discover that somebody had shot down the Moon Spirit. "Shove off, Azula. I'm going to bed."

"You know he only helps you because you're so pathetic."

Zuko grit his teeth but adamantly ignored his sister.

"You can't even control your inner fire yet and it's been, what, a whole  _year_  now? You've barely even started on the beginner forms."

He crawled underneath his sheets and turned away from the door.

"All he sees is his poor little cousin just begging for help with his big, innocent eyes. He's helping you because he feels obligated to, not because he actually likes you. Who could possibly like a dum-dum like you?"

Zuko tightened his lips but didn't move.

"Father is always telling me how much better I'm doing. How I'm going to be a great bender some day. He says I should have golden eyes, not you. He thinks the spirits made a mistake when you were born with Great-grandfather Sozin's eyes. Only the  _best_  have eyes like that."

Zuko tightened his hands into fists but he refused to react. That was what his sister wanted. That was what she was trying to get him to do.

"I bet even Mom pities you. You think she loves you? Well that's sweet. I bet she only likes you because you're so lost she can't help  _but_  treat you like a baby turtleduck – weak and  _soft_."

Zuko snapped open his eyes and jolted into a sitting position. "Mom doesn't think that!"

"Really?" There was a smug grin on Azula's face now. "Then why do you think she always shows up to comfort you? Why is she always telling you 'it's alright, Zuko' or 'you'll get better, Zuko'? Anybody who is nice to you is just pitying you."

"At least she pretends to like me," Zuko snarled. "You're not even good enough for her to  _pretend_  to like you."

Ah, there it was. The tiniest slip in her mouth. It was only for a split second but Zuko had learned to notice every nuance of his sister's face. Often times, it warned him of an incoming attack more than anything else.

"Who needs Mom's love when I have Father's? You're  _nothing_  to him."

That hurt. That really hurt. His father didn't think that. His father loved him. Azula was just being stupid again.

"Shut up, Azula!"

"Or what?" she smirked. "You're going to call  _Mom_?"

"Get  _out!"_

A wave of flame followed his outburst and he watched, horrified, as it slowly approached his sister. For a terrible second, Zuko actually believed that it would hurt her, that he would hurt his only sister. He couldn't do that. As annoying as she was, she was his family and he couldn't hurt family. His heart clenched for the briefest of moments before time sped up again and the firebending prodigy stifled the flame with a lazy wave of her hand.

"You call that firebending? I've seen better from a  _baby_." She smiled, smug, and disappeared from the doorway.


	2. Prologue: The Spirits Hate Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that will get me sued.

**Prologue: The Spirits Hate Me**

Zuko bit his lip and nervously wrung his hands behind his back. He fidgeted on the spot and anxiously glanced up and down the hallway for the umpteenth time to check for any passersby. There wasn't anybody. There hadn't been anybody for at least half and hour now. Zuko sighed and gnawed at his pale lips again before straightening his back and forcing his hands to remain still by his sides. He could do this. He was the son of a Prince. Of course he could do this.

Then again, one didn't just walk in on the Dragon of the West, right?

But Zuko could still remember small snippets of when his Uncle would walk up to him and offer him a small gift from whichever area he had been leading a campaign in. The Firelord's eldest son would smile that cheeky smile of his and laugh his deep-bellied laugh before asking Zuko to a cup of tea. Zuko could never turn his Uncle down. The man was just too happy, too  _kind_  to turn down. That, and it would just be cruel to deny his Uncle a chance to enjoy his favorite beverage. Personally, Zuko thought tea just hot leaf juice but he would never say that to the man's face. He could just imagine the look of horrified shock. Zuko knew the Dragon of the West was a force to be reckoned with, but sometimes it was hard to imagine his Uncle the grand general everybody knew him to be. Quite frankly, Zuko had no idea how such a renowned general could have insisted that his own son learn the "beauty of tea" before learning his firebending forms. Lu Ten could rattle off over thirty kinds of tealeaves and at least eight ways to brew a cup by the time he was six, Zuko had heard.

As strange as it sounded, Zuko really did enjoy his Uncle's company despite his quirks and the rare moments that the general would offer his tutelage usually left Zuko in a giddy frenzy of happiness. Zuko loved and respected his father, but he also loved his Uncle. His uncle was like his Lu Ten in that he never mentioned Zuko's lack of skill outright and was always patient in the way he taught. Sometimes the riddles the man came up with left Zuko with a gigantic headache, but he would take that any day in exchange for firebending lessons.

He knew Uncle cared for him. He saw it in the way the man would always bring him gifts from his campaigns and the way the man would speak to him just for the sake of speaking. So why was he so nervous now? Why was he so nervous to speak to his Uncle now?

Zuko took a deep breath and knocked thrice upon the gold-adorned door in front him before his courage could desert him again.

"Enter," came that amiable voice from the other side of the threshold. Zuko had no doubt that Uncle already knew it was his him. Talented firebenders could sense others of the flame. Prodigious firebenders could identify the individual flames and place a name to each.

Zuko tentatively opened the doors and slowly closed them behind him again once he was inside. He had to refrain from biting his lips again and searched the large room before spotting his Uncle sitting at a low table at the center of the room, the Crown Prince's room. All of the royal family's rooms were large but the Crown Prince's room was second only to the Firelord's own. It was definitely larger and positioned at the very core of the Inner Palace. It was well protected and Zuko had a sneaking suspicion that a secret escape door was hidden somewhere in the room for emergencies.

"Come sit with me, Zuko," smiled Uncle. "No need to stand there as stiff as an Earth Kingdom ostrich-horse."

Zuko took another breath as he maneuvered himself into a position directly across the table from his Uncle and bowed with his palms and forehead to the floor.

"Forgive my impudence, Uncle. I apologize for my intrusion into your private quarters and for my interruption of your rest. I had a pressing concern and thought it prudent to address such concerns with you."

Uncle sighed from across the table. "Zuko, you know you don't need to do this me. How many time have I told you that such formalities are not needed between family members?" Zuko could almost hear the smile sneaking across his uncle's face. "Besides, such formal speech doesn't suit you. If I recall correctly, you weren't so shy of voicing yourself before…"

Zuko almost groaned aloud. When Zuko had been young, he had seen his uncle leave for a campaign for the first time and thought his uncle leaving forever. Even at such a young age, Zuko had known better than to speak aloud, but he had shouted in dismay and demanded his uncle to stay in front of the entire entourage that had arrived to see their Crown Prince and general off to war. Zuko had been reprimanded severely, of course, but Uncle had laughed the entire debacle off and brought the incident up whenever he could.

Zuko straightened up from his position and nervously fixed his eyes on his uncle's teacup. "Uncle…I have a question."

The general's humor melted into a mood of concern and he quietly placed a small, steaming cup of tea in front of Zuko. Trust in Uncle to have an extra cup of tea ready. "What is bothering you, Nephew?"

Zuko stared at the table. "You are…leaving for Ba Sing Se tomorrow."

Uncle nodded. "That is common knowledge, Zuko. Everybody has known of the invasion plans for months now."

Zuko nodded and fingered his cup before taking a deep swallow. He steeled himself as the tea scalded his tongue and asked, "Is it true that Lu Ten is going with you?"

Understand immediately flooded Uncle's eyes and a sad smile graced his lips. "Ah…Zuko. Your kind heart knows no bounds and I hope that you always keep such a beautiful thing alive within you."

Heat flooded Zuko's cheeks and he ducked his head in embarrassment. "Uncle, I don't think Lu Ten should go. You're going to try to take down the most powerfully protected city in the Earth Kingdom and – and I'm worried."

Uncle sighed and put down his cup of tea. "Believe me, nephew, I am worried too. It might not seem like it, but it  _is_  difficult to send my own son into a war that could easily get him killed."

Zuko tensed. "But Lu Ten is good out there, right? He wouldn't get himself killed."

"That is not something for us to decide," Uncle sadly said. "Life and death…they are not escapable even by the most talented benders. Not even the Avatar himself could avoid it."

That wasn't necessarily reassuring and Zuko voiced his thoughts.

His uncle only sighed again and stared at the tea for a few moments before saying, "Zuko, you should know that if it were my decision, I would not be allowing my son into this battle either. I, too, think it dangerous and I can't help but wish he were as young as you to evade the duty of serving one's country."

Zuko flushed. "Uncle, I'm not so sure you would want Lu Ten to be like me…"

"And why not?" his uncle asked. "You are a good person, Zuko. That is, perhaps, the most important thing."

Uncle was just saying that. Who would ever believe that being a "good person" was important? Azula wasn't and everybody loved  _her_.

"But surely you could put in a word…tell them that maybe Lu Ten could stay…"

"I want to," his uncle repeated. "I want to. But sometimes one cannot just say such things."

That was confusing. Why not? Uncle Iroh was the Crown Prince! People would listen, wouldn't they?

"But Uncle –"

Three knocks on the door stopped Zuko in midsentence.

"Father?" asked a muffled voice from the outside. "Are you busy?"

Zuko stiffened. It was Lu Ten. He didn't want his cousin thinking he was talking to Uncle behind his back. He owed his cousin so much. Guilt wormed its way into his stomach and he cast a desperate, pleading look towards his uncle's direction.

Uncle (oh wonderful Uncle) smiled a little and winked as he called out, "Come in, Lu Ten."

Zuko tried to look as natural as possible, as if he were just having another tea meeting. Knowing himself, Zuko figured that he probably looked even more suspicious than before. Self-consciousness bled through his very skin yet when his cousin stepped in, nothing indicated that Lu Ten suspected anything.

"I was packing your teapot again," Lu Ten grinned. He was dressed casually, in training clothes. "When I realized that it wouldn't fit with all everything else we have to bring to the siege."

Zuko almost laughed as a look of complete horror attacked Uncle's face.

"Are you saying you didn't put the teapot in  _first_? How could my own son claim that other things are far more important?"

"Well, things like armor and-"

Zuko actually had to raise a hand to stifle his laughter as the blood drained from his uncle's countenance.

"Lu Ten!"

"Don't worry, Dad," Zuko's cousin smiled. "I was just kidding. The teapot did go in first. I was just wondering if you wanted to bring along our robes. I don't think we'll be needing it, seeing as we scarcely bathe out there, but I just wanted to make sure."

This time, Zuko did laugh aloud with Lu Ten laughing with him.

And for just a brief moment, he forgot that his uncle and cousin were heading off to war.

~0~

It had been nearly a year since Uncle and Lu Ten had left with the rest of the army to take down Ba Sing Se. It had been the longest Zuko had ever gone without seeing their faces and the first time in his life that neither of them had been there for his birthday. His mother had sensed the absence and had taken him and Azula to a festival to celebrate. It would have been an amazing birthday present had his sister not been there. She had a knack for destroying happiness. Literally. If he thought his sister had been bad before, she was complete horror now. She was progressing ever faster in her studies and Zuko…Zuko was going just as slowly as he had been his entire life. He had finally mastered his breathing exercises and, miraculously, his basic forms. It had been the fastest he'd ever progressed but it was still far slower than any member of the Royal Family should be.

But Zuko's lack of skill was no longer the gossip of the noble courts. It still cropped up here and there but events over in the Earth Kingdom were what captured attention now. Zuko almost always heard about the situation in Ba Sing Se from another's mouth before he did from any of his uncle's letters. The interest in the siege was almost tangible and the prospect of finally winning the war made everybody walk on edge. If they won this, they would have it all.

But Zuko could have cared less. Yes, he worried about his nation's people, about all those dying. But such things were still beyond his grasp to completely comprehend and, for now, what he worried about most was the return of his relatives. Zuko prayed to Agni every morning for their safe return. Really, it was still a little abstract to think that they would die. It was just too surreal, too impossible. His Uncle was the Dragon of the West. His cousin was the youngest leading Commander in the army. What were the chances of their dying?

Zuko didn't like to think about it. His studies were keeping him busy enough but he often had to distract himself before falling asleep every night.

Azula, on the other hand, didn't seem to have such problems.

"They should have taken Ba Sing Se by now," Azula had mused. "It can't possibly be  _that_  difficult to defeat an inferior kingdom."

"Uncle's trying his hardest and you know that," Zuko had muttered resentfully back. "It's not like you could do any better."

"Oh I don't  _think_  I could," she had smirked. "I  _know_  I could."

Yes, Azula was definitely not losing any sleep.

Zuko sighed at the memory as he nervously adjusted his clothing, just as he had done a year ago in front of Uncle's door.

Except this time, he wasn't going to face his Uncle.

This time, he was going to face his father.

Prince Ozai had been eating his supper in silence with his family, just like any other supper, when he had abruptly spoken, proclaiming that tomorrow he would be personally checking on his children's bending progress. Zuko had been so startled that he almost dropped his rice bowl and chopsticks. Azula had only paused for the briefest of seconds before allowing a smug smirk to curve her perfect lips upwards in a mocking taunt in Zuko's direction.

Because really, there was no way this could end well for him.

Father had been teaching Azula for years. He already knew how she was doing. Why was he testing  _both_ of them now? Why suddenly decide to check on his son? Zuko was blissfully happy, of course. He hadn't actually spent any time with his father in a long time but that happiness was tinged with anxiety and that hadn't been a very good combination for a good night's sleep. Zuko hadn't slept more than five minutes and now that he was about to face Father, he was starting to feel a sleepless night's toll.

 _Breathe_. Zuko allowed his meditation to take over and easily slipped into the rhythm of  _in and out_. As difficult as it had been to master, it Zuko could now effortlessly slip into the pattern now and he found that its calming qualities were startlingly useful. His father would understand. His father wasn't a cruel man. Surely his father understood that everything Zuko had mastered so far were huge steps? Surely?

A sick voice in the back of his head said that it was just as likely to see his firebending teacher bow down to him. And that chance was close to null.

Spirits, was he really listening to his own  _inner voice_  now? Zuko shook his head to get rid of any morbid thoughts. No, this would go smoothly no matter what.

Zuko stepped out into the practicing courtyard where his father and sister were already waiting. He wasn't worried about their presence though, he knew he wasn't late. He had made sure to keep track of the sun's position this time.

Zuko bowed at his waist in respect, his hands forming the Flame. "Father."

There was silence for a moment before his father replied, "Zuko."

Zuko uneasily straightened and seated himself right beside his sister on the warm grass. As much as it bothered him, he knew that Azula had done this countless times already and probably knew what to do in such lessons with his father.

"Zuko, why have you seated yourself?"

He tensed at his father's words and a hint of panic fluttered in his chest. He had done exactly what he had seen Azula doing. Surely he had done the right thing? Zuko desperately searched his mind before his eyes widened and he had to resist glaring at his sister. Of course. She knew he would follow her, copy her in order to please Father. That was why she was sitting. It was protocol to ask one's father for permission to sit first. Normally, his firebending teacher said nothing about what Zuko should or shouldn't do outside of his firebending and having gone so long without his father's tutelage, he had completely forgotten to seek permission first. Azula, no doubt, had to ask as well but she had ensured to come early and ask before Zuko could see and learn.

Right now, Zuko was willing to give a lot to smack that smug smirk off his sister's face.

Instead, he hastily stood up and bowed deeply at his waist again. "I apologize, Father. Please forgive me for my forgetfulness."

"I have heard of your lapses in memory from many of your tutors, Zuko. I would have thought that you would learn by now."

Zuko had to fight to keep himself from flinching. He wanted to shrink and disappear altogether, away from his father's burning disapproval. He had almost forgotten how much it hurt to stand under his father's scrutiny. He had been so overlooked in favor of Azula for so long that it almost stung to be back under such a fierce gaze. Now he remembered and despite his hunger approval, he suddenly wanted to be anywhere else in the world but here.

And it had been less than five minutes.

"Sit, Zuko. Azula will go first."

Zuko let out a breath as he settled back on to the grass and sat with all of the posture of a member of the royal family could muster. He couldn't look lax now, not after his early slip.

He needn't have bothered. The minute Azula had stepped up and taken her stance, his father had all eyes for her and Zuko could have been rolling around in the dirt for all the Fire Nation's second Prince could have cared.

Zuko watched as his sister began at the basic forms and he couldn't stop himself from marveling at her perfection. She just made it look so  _easy_  and every single movement; every twitch of the muscle was precise. It was elegant, smooth, and deadly – just as it meant to be. And these were just the basics. Zuko almost flushed as he thought about himself. He made these movements look clumsy. It shamed him to think that he was butchering such a beautiful form of art. That's what firebending was and although Zuko would never word it that way, he certainly thought it. As much as he loathed his sister sometimes, he had to respect her for her genius. It hurt to admit that he had to aspire to her level.

Soon, she was out of the basic forms and on to the multiple tiers that followed. Each movement was gradually speeding up, gradually gaining in complexity until Zuko was almost hard pressed to recognize any of it. Sure, he had seen Lu Ten practice the same moves before, but something about the way Azula went about it made it seem to be on a completely different level. Everything was perfect. Nothing was out of place.

She wasn't even sweating.

Agni, she really was the prodigy every Fire Nation family would die to have.

And he was supposed to compete with this? There was no way. Despair clouded Zuko's mind and he hardly heard his father's praise as Azula came to a close. He wanted that. He dreamt of that. That perfect form, that ability to awe others without even trying. But dreams weren't his, Zuko reminded himself. Dreams were for his own amusement. Dreams were the fuel to his motivations. Dreams kept Zuko going. He knew that. So how many times did he have to remind himself that dreams were just dreams for him?

"Zuko!"

Zuko actually flinched out of his thoughts at the harsh command and he realized that he had messed up again. His father had been calling him and he had been so lost in his despair that it had soared right over his head.

He automatically stood up and ignored the smirk that Azula directed at him as she sat down to watch his demonstration.

"Good luck, dum-dum…you're going to need it," she breathed into his ear, unnoticed by Father.

Zuko shivered at the truth of those words.

He took up the beginning stance and tried to regulate his breathing. His entire demonstration would be hopeless without proper breathing. That was why he had to master it first.

"You may begin, Zuko," his father said.

Zuko took a deep breath and tried to fall into the pattern again only to find his hands trembling and no calming effect in sight.  _Breath again_. He took another deep breath except this time it made it even worse. Agitation, the complete opposite of what he had been aiming for, breathed to life in his chest and his inner flame flared dangerously. He had to get himself under control. He had to! This was his first demonstration to his  _father_. He couldn't disappoint now…not after Azula had done so spectacularly. It had been so easy. Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe properly? He couldn't manage to fall into the rhythm that he had so easily utilized a few minutes ago. What was wrong with him?

"You may begin, Zuko," father repeated again with a hint of impatience.

_Focus. You've done this. You've done this. You can do this._

He took a deep breath but it only went in halfway, the rest of his throat choked off in panic.

"Zuko, I thought I told you to begin." There was a hard edge to his father's voice now. A dangerous edge that meant he was about to get angry and it was never a good thing to get father angry.

_Take a breath. I've done this a thousand times before. Just take a breath. Calm yourself._

But he couldn't. For all his training, he might as well have just created his first spark yesterday. He couldn't gain a grip on his control. He couldn't. He tried again and again. He even attempted to count backwards to calm himself. He tried imagining himself somewhere else only to find that his imagination dragged him right back to the courtyard and his irritated father.

Zuko could literally feel his father's anger by now and he so panicked, so taut, that he completely lost control as his father bellowed, "Begin!"

Fire roared to life in around his hands and the panic overwhelmed him. The tiny part of his mind that remembered his forms tried to salvage the situation but his clumsy attempts only urged the flames higher and Zuko fell back with a shout.

Suddenly, the flames disappeared as quickly as they had come and Zuko found himself staring at his sister's smirk yet again.

"Very good, Azula," Father smiled. "You are a good sister, saving your brother when he didn't deserve it."

 _Didn't deserve it?_  Those words cut like knives, worse than knives. Zuko could know. He had his fair share of such cuts back during his days under Master Piandao's tutelage. Did his father really…? No. Of course his father was right. He didn't deserve to be protected from his own flame. He hadn't been able to control himself. He hadn't even been able to breathe properly. Of course he didn't deserve it. Zuko bowed his head in shame.

"You, on the other hand," his father said in condemnation, "are not even worthy to be blessed with the flame. What child your age cannot even control their inner fire? I expected more from you, Zuko. Perhaps you should learn from your sister and dedicate yourself more."

Zuko's eyes stung and he fiercely struggled to keep in the tears. Spirits, he was such a  _baby_. No ten-year-old  _cried_  at this age. He bit the inside of his mouth hard and the taste of copper drew him out of his stupor enough to shakily stand and offer a bow of respect to his father.

"Forgive me, Father. I have failed you."

But he had already turned away, Zuko's words mere sound in the wind.

Why would Father bother listen to a failure's words when he could be teaching a prodigy?

~0~

Zuko did poorly in the rest of his studies that day. He was too distracted to do something like focus. Everything went in one ear and out the other. He could only stare at his tutors as their mouths moved with no sound and the lines of prose he normally breezed through muddled into meaningless scribbles of ink. He could only think of his father and the disappointment that had etched itself into Zuko's brain.

_I expected more form you, Zuko._

His history tutor had only gotten ten minutes into the lesson before he had been forced to declare Zuko unfit for teaching for the remainder of the day. No amount of Zuko's desperate pleads could convince the old man to stay.

"I know when I'm talking to the furniture in the room," his tutor had snapped.

Perfect. Now not only did he completely fail his demonstration, but word of his subsequent failure would also reach his father's ears. His father was right. Agni, maybe even Azula was right.

… _saving your brother when he didn't deserve it._

Zuko sat alone in the East Wing and was humiliated to hear a small whimper escape his lips. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He was such a dum-dum! Spirits, today was  _terrible_.

Zuko abruptly felt the need to move, to get away from it all. He jolted to his feet and blindly stormed back to his quarters as his vision blurred. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to cry. He  _wasn't_.

His room was cool and shaded from the day's heat, a sanctuary. Zuko locked the door behind him as he scrambled inside and leaned against it as he soaked in the bliss of escape. He was quiet and still for a few moments before the coldness in his chest seeped into the rest of his body. A sick pit in his stomach overwhelmed him and a sudden weakness forced another whimper through his lips. His legs just ceased to be capable of holding his weight up and he fell to his knees, slumped against the door.

Zuko heard a sob and he clenched his fists as he realized that the offending sign of weakness had come from his own mouth. He couldn't control his own body, forget inner fire. He couldn't control anything. Not his firebending. Not his body. And most definitely not his own,  _stupid_  life. Why was he so pathetic? Why…after so many hours of practicing! He had spent far more time out in the courtyard trying to master his skills than his sister did yet today had been her day to shine. She would leisurely watch from the shadows as he struggled with his forms. He would resent her apparent ease but dealt with it because he believed that, if he worked hard enough, he could catch up and maybe pass her.

Obviously, he was just delusional.

Zuko sobbed aloud again and this time he actually felt something slip down his cheeks and splash against hand.

He so desperately wanted somebody to tell him that he was worth it, that it wasn't impossible. He wanted somebody to tell him that everything wasn't for naught and that it would all pay off. But Zuko knew better. His mother was kind in her way and he would be lying if he said he didn't want her comfort now. Yet at the same time, he viciously didn't want her here. If she showed up, all kind smiles and warm hugs, it would just mean that he was too weak to deal with his own weakness alone.

Zuko felt another splash and he bit his lips to keep from any more sounds from escaping.

Spirits, why couldn't Lu Ten be here? Maybe even Uncle's crazy laughter would work right now. But…no. Just no. He couldn't wish for that, either. That was still weakness. He couldn't wish for  _anybody_  to help him. He was just… _weak_.

Zuko couldn't keep the soft keen of despair down in his throat. His vision was blurred and he buried his head in his hands as his frame shook against the door.

He just tried so  _hard_. Why did nothing work out his way? Did the spirits hate him? Was his destiny to live forever the disappointment?

Zuko grit his teeth at the thought and a brief burst angry of flame surrounded him before he brutally stifled it down. No. He couldn't live like that. He  _wouldn't_. He had worked for this. It  _would_  pay off. It had to. The world wasn't that cruel. It just couldn't be. He would fight through this like he had always been since the day he had been born. And someday, everybody would realize that they had been wrong to gossip about his ability.

He had to believe that. If he didn't, what did he have to live for?

Zuko knew it would happen. He knew it would. He knew he would make his father proud eventually. He just had to work even harder from now on. It would all be okay.

So why did it still hurt so much?

~0~

"Your Uncle sent a letter," Zuko's mother smiled.

A grin split across his face while a slight huff of impatience escaped Azula's lips.

"It's been a while," Zuko smiled, eager.

"Oh, please," his sister scoffed. "It's been only three weeks since his last letter."

"Nearly a whole month!"

"So what? The little dum-dum can't survive without a little letter from his big, crazy uncle?"

Zuko shot her a glare. The morning's failed demonstration still stung even after he had finally stopped sobbing to himself.

"Azula," Princess Ursa frowned.

"Sorry, Mother," his sister replied sweetly, a fake note of remorse in her tone.

His mother only sighed before she unrolled the scroll that a messenger had given to her. She recited, "My dear Brother, Sister-in-law, Nephew, and Niece, the Wall is truly something to behold. We have been putting all of our attacks against it but it still stands. If the city is as magnificent as its wall, Ba Sing Se must be something to behold. I hope you might be able to see it someday…if I don't burn it to the ground first!"

Zuko laughed and, to his surprise, Azula did too. He could almost hear his uncle's hearty laughter after the last sentence, but he wondered if his sister really understood that it had been written in good humor. Either that, or she just reveled in the thought of oncoming destruction.

"For Zuko, I give a dagger that once belonged to the general who surrendered when I broke through the Outer Wall. Note the superior craftsmanship and heed the inscription, for it is something all should remember."

Zuko eagerly reached out for the gift from a waiting messenger and cradled the weapon in his hands. It was beautiful in its deadly grace and its black sheath glittered in the falling sunlight just outside the room. There were two pure gold protrusions on both sides of it where the sheath slid open and it felt light, a perfect balance in Zuko's hand.

"For Azula, I give an Earth Kingdom doll. She wears the latest fashion that the noble daughters wear to formal occasions."

Zuko almost laughed in his sister's face as she was handed a simple doll dressed in green and hair placed in a strange head-encompassing bun. Azula stuck her tongue out in disgust but an amused smile overcame her features as she turned.

"Hey, if Uncle doesn't return home, wouldn't that make Dad the next Firelord?"

"Young lady! We do  _not_  speak like that," his mother said in horror.

"Yeah, Azula," Zuko snapped furiously. What was his sister doing, saying things like Uncle dying? That was stupid! "How could you like it if Lu Ten wanted Dad to die!"

She shrugged, ever the disinterested perfectionist. "Dad would make a much better Fire Lord than his royal tea-loving kookiness."

A sense of sick dread settled itself into Zuko's stomach for the umpteenth time that day. Did his sister really mean that? Why did she say such a thing and sound so…confident about it? Uncle dying could never happen. And, for that matter, neither could Lu Ten's dying. They just couldn't die. They couldn't.

Zuko shivered and watched with a strange sense of foreboding as his sister burned the doll in her hands.

Later that night, when he was alone again in his room, Zuko unsheathed his new pearl-handled dagger and quietly read to himself, "Never give up without a fight."

He smiled softly and figured that if that wasn't a sign of encouragement from the spirits, he didn't know what was.

~0~

Zuko should have known that the spirits hadn't meant anything close to encouragement from the new dagger. He should have known. If the spirits really favored him so, would he have been born such a failure? If the spirits really favored him, would the messenger have solemnly come to his mother with that damning scroll almost a year later after his uncle's letter?

Of course not. The spirits just hated him.

Zuko couldn't remember a time when he had felt worse. He couldn't remember such emptiness, such grief even after his first failed demonstration. He was eleven now, but this time, he hadn't been ashamed to cry. To him, the whole  _world_  should have been crying after such a great loss.

Just that afternoon, his mother had turned to him, tears streaking down her face, and said, with the smallest of tremors in her voice, "Your cousin, Lu Ten…did not survive the battle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, first things, first...the actual deviation from the canon plot line will start next chapter :) These first two were just sort of...warm-ups? Like chapters to get the characters out there and their personalities known as well as their relationships and whatnot.
> 
> I'm kind of sad to see Lu Ten die...he was so nice in my imagination :(
> 
> And the whole dagger saying "never give up without a fight" just happened to work beautifully lol. I didn't actually plan for that to happen but hey, if it works, it works XD
> 
> And Zuko...yeah I made him pretty average here because that's just him, right? I'm sure he was talented in canon, but that didn't really show in such a degrading environment. That, and it's sort of essential to his development that he struggle through everything. It's just Zuko. He wouldn't be Zuko without a bunch of angsty and low self-esteem issues. (Although this doesn't mean that I'm going to make his lack of talent prolonged in my fic. He's gonna get better real fast :P)
> 
> And I forgot to mention this before, but some of the canon scenes (like the whole Zuko falling into the fountain with Mai thing) did happen when he was younger but it just seemed to suit the story better. Thank you to Kimberly T for pointing that out :)
> 
> I'm not good with emotional scenes. So if the whole Zuko sobbing to himself just seemed pathetic and blotchy and disjunct...well it's one of those things I'm working on.
> 
> And yes, there were a lot of time skips in this one :0 I know, I hate them too but the story isn't one focused on Zuko's childhood. I had to actually get to the MAIN plot lol.
> 
> And thanks to all my commentators! You guys encourage me to continue :)
> 
> PS Not edited again...sorry if it was choppy writing Xl


	3. Part 1: Ozai's Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that would get me sued.

**Part 1: Ozai's Request**

"You waste all your time playing with knives," Azula sneered from a chair in the family courtroom as she watched her brother brandish his pearl-handed knife. "You're not even good."

"Put an apple on your head and we'll find out how good I am!" Zuko snapped back, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He knew she was right. He had never learned how to properly use knives as weapons on their own with Master Piandao and for the last three days since learning of Lu Ten's death, he had spent all of his free time fingering the weapon and attempting to practice with it. Zuko had always loved the gift. Something about it, especially the phrasing inscribed into the blade, always reminded him of his cousin. Lu Ten had always encouraged him and, for that matter, so had Uncle. It seemed to comfort him in place of his relatives.

But he had never actually taken the knife out to practice with. The most he had ever done with it prior to the last three days was unsheathe it in the safety of his quarters and finger it before falling asleep. Now that Lu Ten was gone, Zuko had felt a strange need to bring the knife out, to carry it with him wherever he went. Something within him feared that it would disappear just like his cousin had.

"By the way, Uncle is coming home," Azula smiled, jumping down from her perch. Zuko backed away a little, wary of the dangerous edge to her amused expression.

Zuko eyed her and slowly said, "Does that mean…we won the war?"

"No. It means Uncle is a quitter  _and_  a loser."

"What are you talking about?" Zuko spat. He glared at Azula's back as she meandered further into the room. "Uncle's  _not_  a quitter."

"Oh yes he is," Azula retorted in derision. She swung an arm around one of the large pillars holding up the building. "He found out his son died and he just fell apart. A  _real_  general would stay and burn Ba Sing Se to the ground." She let go of the pillar and crossed her arms with a smirk. "A  _real_  general wouldn't lose the battle and come home  _crying_."

"How do you know what he should do?" Azula had no right to be saying things like this.  _She_  wasn't out there fighting barbarian earthbenders and leading a whole army of men. She wasn't the one who had lost her child. She didn't know what it was like. She hadn't even batted an eyelash when Mother had announced Lu Ten's death. Zuko's anger slipped into nonexistence as the now-familiar grief bubbled up to take its place and the distant memory of his cousin's smile made his chest ache. "He's probably only sad his only kid is gone." Zuko almost choked on his words and looked down to the floor tiles. "Forever."

She turned to him with a smirk. "That is why you are weak, Zuzu. I bet you would have done what Uncle did, am I right? But I wouldn't have. I would have stayed and fought."

 _Because you're heartless._  Zuko had to clench his fists to keep from lashing out. It would have no difference if he attacked her or not. But it would be in his best interest not to. She had grown too far ahead now and she would literally have him lying on his back in a matter of moments. But he wanted to – so  _badly_. How could she so emotionless like this? A member of her own family had just died and she almost sounded gleeful. Zuko hurt everywhere still. He had just been tired and listless all the time and he had begun to have nightmares of Lu Ten dying slowly under a dark, stone prison.

His tutors had all given up on his by now. They arrived as their duty dictated but Zuko could tell they had adopted a careless approach. Zuko knew he should have been ashamed by his lack of effort but the world had begun to seem bleak and sometimes he wondered whether it would all even be worth it. Nowadays, the only thing he took pleasure in were his moments alone with his mother and time spent practicing with his knife.

"Zuko, Azula," his mother suddenly called form the doorway. "Dress in your best clothes. Hurry now! Your father has asked for an audience with Firelord Azulon."

"Firelord Azulon," Azula scoffed carelessly. "Can't we just call his Grandfather? He's not exactly the powerful Firelord he used to be. Somebody will probably end up taking his place soon."

Zuko shot her an incredulous look. That had almost sounded like treason!

"Young Lady! Not. Another. Word," Mother snapped.

Azula only rolled her eyes and ran out the door. Zuko nervously glanced up at his mother and quickly followed his sister's path out just as he heard his mother murmur, "What is wrong with that child?"

Zuko caught up to his sister a few feet down the hall and glanced at her. She normally wasn't so blatantly petulant around Mother like that. Azula was always subtle, always careful to wreak her damage silently. So why did it seem as if she always lost a little bit of that control around Mother like that?

"What…do you think the audience is for?"

Azula shot him a contemptuous glare and turned away. "If you don't know by now then you really are a dum-dum."

"So what?  _You_  know?"

She sniffed, looking down at him despite her shorter height, and gave Zuko a look that screamed "obviously". He fell silent after that and for the first time in a long time, they fell into an almost tolerable lull devoid of scathing remarks and arguments.

Just as they reached her bedroom door, Zuko hesitated the slightest bit, debating on whether he should ask what was wrong. Because there  _was_  something wrong. He knew it. People watched the people they loved, but they watched the people who meant harm all the more. Something about Azula had always sat strangely with Zuko and he had found himself unconsciously documenting her every move, her every facial expression to catch the slightest notion that she might suddenly leap and devour him whole. With that much attention, Zuko knew Azula almost better than anybody else did.

Zuko stifled his hesitation and continued walking a few more steps to his own quarters. She would never answer him anyway. She would probably just scoff at him and call him weak again. He was about to close his door behind him when the softest of voices murmured from the adjacent doorway.

"I heard Mom. And I don't care what she says. There's  _nothing_  wrong with me."

~0~

Zuko nervously resisted his habit of tugging on his clothes as he sat in the Fire Nation's very own throne room. He himself had been in the room a grand total of two times before in his entire life despite the fact that his grandfather was the Firelord. He didn't remember either time. The first had been when his parents had presented his newborn self. The second had been when Azula had been presented and he had only been two.

The relative darkness of the room sent shivers down his spine. They were the  _Fire_  Nation for Agni's sake. Why did they make the throne room so devoid of light like this? True, it added to overall dramatic effect of the flames wreathing the throne but was that really necessary?

Zuko couldn't quite make out his grandfather's face. He had never seen it enough to actually memorize the contours like he had his immediate family. To Zuko, his grandfather was more a stranger than anything else. The only conversation he could remember between himself and the Firelord had been during his sixth birthday when the man had simply handed him a large wrapped gift and murmured, "Happy Birthday."

It hadn't even been a proper conversation, but Zuko could still recall the gravelly texture and the strange sense of  _warmth_  in his grandfather's tone that day. Zuko smiled the slightest bit at the memory. He still treasured the gift the Firelord had given him by hand and they were currently neatly hung on his bedroom wall. The dual Dao swords had been a surprise and they had proved to be his favorite weapon when training with Master Piandao.

"And how was it that your great-grandfather, Sozin, win the Battle of Han Tui?" Father asked, already on his fifth question in a seemingly random questionnaire.

Zuko felt the brushings of recognition in his mind and he stammered, "Great-grandfather Sozin…won the battle…because…"

"Because even though his army was outnumbered, he cleverly calculated his advantages. The enemy was downwind and there was a drought. Their defenses burned to a crisp in minutes," Azula rattled off with a self-satisfied smirk.

Zuko didn't even have time for a glare before his father said, "Correct, Azula. Now why don't you show your grandfather the new firebending technique you demonstrated to me?"

Azula stood up with all the confidence of a prodigy and took up a stance. She immediately launched into a series of large blasts and quickly maneuvered her footwork to add to the impressive display. She grew ever faster and she ended neatly with a single, powerful kick before flipping back into her beginning stance.

So all of that time cartwheeling with Ty Lee hadn't been for simple fun. Of course, the perfect princess had been learning some advantages. She did nothing without a purpose.

"She is a true prodigy, just like her grandfather for whom she's named," Father said with the pride in his voice Zuko had longed every day for.

Azula settled back down beside Zuko and smugly murmured, "You'll never catch up."

Zuko knew that it was bait. He knew it. She always said things like that to rile him up. But he just couldn't seem to stop himself from saying, "I'd like to demonstrate what  _I've_  learned."

He tried to ignore his father's noticeable frown of disapproval as he settled into his own beginning stance. He had been working hard the last year and despite his recent slack in work, he had finally been able to create something resembling Azula's own routine. He was nowhere near as clean cut as she was yet, but he tried to ignore that fact as he began the exercise.

But his father's frown stayed in his mind and soon, he found himself stumbling and desperately tried to fix his mistake by ending it with a kick like his sisters only to land on his back with not a single, final blast of flame to redeem himself.

Like always.

His mother's arms were immediately around him and he struggled to push her off. It was bad enough that he had completely shamed himself in front of Azula, father,  _and_  the Firelord. He didn't want them seeing his mother baby him now.

"I failed," he mumbled, ignoring etiquette.

"No, Zuko, I loved watching you. That's who you are, Zuko," his mother soothed. "Somebody who keeps fighting even though it's hard."

Was it so bad that he actually loved to hear these words of comfort? They kept his hurt at bay and her soothing presence was like a balm against burns.

"Prince Ozai, why are you wasting my time with this pomp? Just tell me what you want. Everyone else – go," the Firelord commanded with a tinge of irritation.

Mother pulled Zuko up with her and strode forward with the intention of leading her children out of the throne room. Azula followed closely at Zuko's heels and just as they were about to exit, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind the long, ruby curtains that adorned the back wall.

"What are you –"

"Shh," Azula brusquely motioned with a swift jab of her finger and Zuko's protests died on his tongue. It wasn't like he was listening to her. He was just as curious as she. If they had a chance to listen in on Father's conversation, they should seize it.

"Father," the second Prince began, "I grieve for my brother's loss and I pray for my nephew's spirit, but you must have realized, just as I, that, with Lu Ten gone, Iroh's bloodline has ended. After his son's death, my brother abandoned the Siege of Ba Sing Se and who knows when he will return home? But I am here, Father, and my children are alive."

"Say what it is you want," the Fire Lord snapped.

What was Father trying to say? Why was Father speaking about Uncle and Lu Ten? Zuko wrinkled his brow and watched as the Fire Lord's expression remained impassive. He could only see his father's back but he could see the slight tension, the anticipation that seemed to tighten his back shoulders. Zuko didn't spend that much time with his father, but even he could see that. Whatever his father was trying to do, it was big because his father never portrayed any weakness, any flaw. His father was perfect. Just like Azula.

What was Zuko's father trying to do?

The Fire Nation's second Prince drew himself up and stood before the Fire Lord. "Father, revoke Iroh's birthright. I am your humble servant, here to serve you and our nation…use  _me_."

There was a moment of deadly silence. Zuko almost choked at his father's request and he could hear his sister's elated intake of breath. A part of his mind wondered if Azula had known this would happen, but the majority of his mind was stunned. "Use me"? Was Father actually trying to... _take the throne?_  Away from Uncle? Hadn't they always told him that Uncle was the Crown Prince, the future leader of the world's greatest nation? Why was Father doing this? Why?

The Fire Lord's flames grew higher and he leaned forward in his throne with an almost incredulous expression on his face. Fury, shock, and complete disgust were etched in the old man's face.

"You  _dare_ suggest I betray Iroh? My firstborn? Directly after the demise of his only, beloved son?" Zuko could see a sort of grim determination, a sort of resignation in his grandfather's brow now. The flames, although high, were now brighter than ever and they seemed to enhance the Fire Lord's features. An overwhelmingly furious power emanated from the Fire Nation's leader and Zuko had to curl in his hands into the curtain to keep himself from fleeing. This was dangerous. This was something Zuko didn't want to see. Something about that set, thin line of his grandfather's mouth made him shiver in foreboding and dread curled in his stomach.

"Your brother has suffered enough," Zuko's grandfather snarled, "But you? You punishment as scarcely  _begun_!"

Zuko's control snapped then. The wave of oppressive and pure power seemed to lash itself throughout the room like a shockwave and Zuko flinched away from it. Everything told him to run from this, run from it all. He wasn't afraid of the power nor was he afraid of his grandfather's ire, but something about all of this was just so  _wrong_. Like the world had tilted on edge and only Zuko could sense that everything was going to fall off the edge. Nothing good could come of this. Nothing.

He detangled himself from the curtains and desperately hurled himself out of the room. He couldn't stay. That sense of  _wrongness_  wouldn't go away and the only way he could think to escape it was to run. He didn't miss his sister's condescending smirk on his way out. She was most likely thinking him weak for fearing a mere display of power and anger but Zuko could have cared less. For the first time in a long time,  _she_  was the stupid one. She couldn't sense it, could she? The wrongness? Was nothing telling her to get away? Was that feral expression of hunger on her face actually  _excitement_? What, in Agni's name, could she possibly be excited about? Everything was wrong. Everything wasn't working like it should have. Lu Ten was dead. Uncle was away and heartbroken. Father was betraying his brother and asking for the throne. Grandfather was a mere breath away from incinerating his second son on the spot. What was there to be excited about?

Zuko flew down the halls, heedless of the startled expressions of the nobles and scholars that he passed. Pure terror had etched itself into his heart and he only ceased his escape once he slammed his bedroom door behind him. He desperately plunged his hand underneath his pillow and brought out his knife. He gripped it so hard his knuckles turned white and he feverishly unsheathed it to stare at the inscription for the thousandth time.

For once, it didn't calm him down. That terror, that wrongness, was still there.

~0~

Azula watched in silent awe as the Firelord, her grandfather, displayed his fury and power through the wall of flame shrouding his throne. A hint of a smirk touched her lips as Zuko trembled and ran away like the coward he was and a sense of fascination rooted her to the spot.

"Your punishment, Ozai, shall fit your crime. You too must know the pain of losing your firstborn son…by sacrificing your  _own_."

Azula felt a thrill shoot through her stomach. Zuko, gone? And leaving her, her father's heir? It was exactly what she wanted. Exactly. The only thing Zuko was good for was taking up space. Maybe he sometimes smiled kindly at her and offered her the occasional extra bun from his dinner or the occasional question of whether she was "alright" or not, but those strange lapses of, dare she say it,  _consideration_  were mere flukes. She knew it. She knew Zuko was jealous of her brilliance. Everybody was. Who wouldn't be? Azula was beautiful, smart, and powerful. She knew she was a road to greatness. Everybody  _should_  be jealous. Zuko only tripped up everything he came by and stole Mother away with every pathetic little emotional spat he spouted almost daily like a baby. Mother and Zuko feared Azula's perfection. Only Father could truly appreciate her. With Zuko out of the way, she could finally take her rightful place beside Father.

But Firelord Azulon must have seen something in his second son's eyes, an inhuman spark of satisfaction for he continued, "I can see that you desire power, Ozai. You hunger for it and you shall pay for such greed. Iroh is your brother. How could you wish such destruction upon your kin? You shall not have as you desire."

"Father," Ozai said in an effort to mend his mistake. "I only had the fate of our nation in mind. If you allowed me to take the throne –"

"Silence!" the Fire Lord bellowed with a sweep of an arm. "Listen well, Prince Ozai. The only way I would even consider your request is if you did as I spoke of. Sacrifice your son and only then will I consider you in the same light as your brother."

Azula held her breath. What was Father going to say? A part of her actually hoped that he  _wouldn't_  agree because if Father agreed to this now, what would stop him from sacrificing her if he needed to in the future? But a much larger part of her rejected that. Father loved her. He praised her. He didn't praise Zuko. He would never sacrifice his prodigal daughter. She was sure.

Father's long, black hair shrouded his face and a heavy silence descended upon the throne room for the longest, most agonizing moments of Azula's life. Was Father actually hesitating? Was Father going to give up this chance for a  _dum-dum_? He couldn't! Father had always spoken softly to her of his aspirations after her lessons with him. He had always told her how much of a better world he could create if he were heir to the throne. He always told her how much he desired the throne, how he was going to change the world so that the Fire Nation would stand, indisputably, at the top.

Finally, the second Prince opened his mouth and gravely said, "If sacrificing Zuko is what it will take, than I am willing to even do that in order to prove to you, Father, that I am worthy."

A terrifying glee sent a manic grin across Azula's face. Zuko was going to be gone!  _She_  would be the heir of the family, an only child! With him out of the way, she could have both her parents' attention! And it would only be a matter of time before grandfather dropped dead and her father took the throne that would rightfully be his after Zuko was gone and once he came to power –

"I am disappointed," the Fire Lord whispered in a tone almost sad. "I truly am disappointed, Ozai. I expected more from you."

Azula was just as surprised as her father.

"Father, what are you saying? I said I would be willing to – "

"And I heard you," the Fire Lord interrupted, his voice grim. "I heard you and was disappointed. You would be willing to sacrifice your only son for  _power_. I am no fool, Ozai. I know my time is coming despite my good health. I know when I see one of my own too far gone to save. As fierce as our people are, as strongly as the flame of determination and strength runs through our veins, we must always remember to never fall prey to our insistent desire for power. And that is exactly what you have done. I cannot have my heir a person hungry for power. Our nation would never prosper with a leader that was driven by power."

No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong. This wasn't right. Just a minute ago, Azula could actually taste her father's victory. Now it was slipping between the cracks and disappearing altogether. What in Agni's name was the Fire Lord prattling on about? What was wrong with a ruler driven by power? Father had always told her that power was the only thing you could trust, the only thing that was good about the world. Everything else was a lie to hurt and shove you down. Power was everything.

"You will, indeed, still lose your son," Grandfather continued. "But you shall not lose him to something so crude as sacrifice. Our royal line is already so thin, so precarious. No, Zuko shall no longer be your son, but Iroh's. My firstborn has experienced his loss and he deserves his own heir." Azula could actually taste the horror coming off Father in waves. She herself felt like gagging. "From this day forward, Zuko shall be second in line for the throne and raised to be the next Crown Prince."

No! Azula had to clench her fists and take meditating breaths to calm her temper. This couldn't be happening. Zuko, as the next Crown Prince? She wouldn't let that happen. She couldn't. Zuko didn't deserve such a place. Zuko didn't deserve  _anything._  He was a good-for-nothing bastard, lucky to be born.

Azula scrambled backwards and out the throne room, unable to watch her father bow before the Fire Lord in concession. She was actually running away, fear striking at her heart like fear had struck her brother's a few minutes before. If Zuko became the next Crown Prince, what would she be? She wouldn't be a Prince's son then. She would just be part of another branch of the royal family, another one of those nobodies who populated the palace. She couldn't let that happen. She wasn't born for something so  _lowly_. She was born into power and she would have it, no matter the cost.

Azula forced herself to slow down and  _think_. What could she do? She knew Father would already be acting, fixing the problem. But she wanted to help. She wanted to make sure that the Fire Lord's command wouldn't come to fruition.

A smirk formed on her face. Oh, yes. She could make sure. She could make sure in such a way that nobody else could.

Mother had always been fiercely protective of Zuko. It wouldn't take much to lie, to twist this into a situation that would work in Father's favor.

And Azula had always been good at lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yup, there was the first deviation from the canon :) I bet a lot of you guessed what I was going to do already.
> 
> And I know that a lot of this was taken from the canon (the scenes I mean). The wording is practically the exact same thing and it was actually an effort on my part to keep it as exact as possible. (Once again, I don't own the thing so let's not call the lawyers.) I thought that these scenes were pretty crucial and I only changed/added what I had to. From here on out, it's going to be pretty AU. Obviously.
> 
> I also tried to paint some humanity into Azula in this chapter. The previous chapters were pretty black and white in terms of Azula's cruel streak, but I really wanted to keep her a round character. For all of her confidence, we all know that she has this whole "Mother hates me and it hurts but I ignore it and act cool" thing. She has her own internal issues and I wanted that out there. She's an ass but, like most asses, she has some deep issues.
> 
> Oh, and for all of you hoping for pairings...I guess I'm going to have to apologize to you ahead of time. I just don't like writing pairings. Number one because the way I write pairings turn out cheesy as hell but also because most of the time it tends to just get in the way of the plot. Unless, of course, that's the plot itself. But it isn't in my case. I plan to focus on Zuko's struggles, his story in this AU. I might add a pairing if it comes to fit, but I will never capitalize on it and will mention it in passing at most.
> 
> Also, if I ever do a pairing, it will never be Zutara or Maiko. Sorry. It just wouldn't make sense. As cute and sweet as some scenes make those pairings seem in canon, I just don't see how, realistically, they would work out. Zuko chased Katara all over the world with the intention of taking away the Avatar and handing him over to his crazed dad. That, and he burned a village or two along the way. So no, too much bad blood there and it would just take WAY too long to even develop a suitable situation for the pairing. Plus, in my story, Zuko won't know Katara as well as he did in canon. And Mai? Okay, maybe they shared a CHILDHOOD crush. But, in canon, Zuko's been at sea for THREE YEARS. Three years of bitterness, difficulties, and experiencing the outside world. He wouldn't be the same and such a time gap wouldn't keep their bond THAT tightly knit. In my story, they just wouldn't work out for different reasons that I won't voice now.
> 
> But yay, now with the whole scene set up, I can finally get to the JUICY stuff :D
> 
> Thanks to all my commentators! You guys keep me going :)


	4. Part 1: The Assassin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

**Part 1: The Assassin**

Zuko stared listlessly into the darkness and tightened his grip on his silk blankets. His hair was free of its usual topknot and it framed his pale face as he tried to fall asleep. A part of him shied away from the idea of rest. Nowadays, it only brought nightmares and thoughts of his dead cousin. And after watching Father speak with Grandfather…Zuko wasn't so sure sleep would be the best idea.

His stomach flipped at the memory and that  _wrongness_  was back again. Zuko clenched his teeth and growled softly in his throat before shifting his position for the hundredth time. Would it kill the spirits to grant him the blessing of decent sleep? They had already messed up the rest of his life. What had he ever done to anger them? Maybe it was as Azula said. Maybe the fact that he was  _born_  was good enough reason for the spirits to hate him.

Zuko snuck his hand under his pillow and clenched his knife. No, he couldn't think like that. Azula was just saying that. None of it was true. Zuko knew it. He knew it. And Azula…Azula was just…just a  _liar_.

"Azula always lies," Zuko murmured softly to himself in the silence of the night. He tightened his grip on the knife's sheath. Yes, she did. Nothing she said was ever true. Nothing. Zuko wasn't lucky to be born. He was meant to be born. He was meant to be the son of a Prince, a member of royalty.

Zuko was torn from his thoughts as the distinct sound of his door opening snapped his attention away. He straightened up slightly before slouching back with a scowl.

It was Azula. Of course it was her. She had taken up the habit of giving him "goodnight wishes".

"Daddy's going to kill you," she chanted in a singsong voice. Then she turned to him with a smirk. "Really. He is."

"Shut up, Azula," Zuko grumbled. That was all he seemed to be telling her lately.

"I mean it." She sauntered up to his bed and leaned against the side. "'Your punishment shall fit your crime and you will know the pain of losing your firstborn son by sacrificing your  _own_ ,'" she mimicked.

A bolt of horror froze Zuko in place for a moment before he bit the inside of his mouth and pulled his knees to his chest in defiance. "You're lying. Dad would never do that to me."

He wouldn't, right? Zuko knew that he disappointed his father, but surely he wouldn't sacrifice his only son? A flash of contempt and disapproval flickered through Zuko's mind but he shoved them aside. His father would never do something like  _that_. His father cared for him. His father loved him.

"Your father would never do what to you?" his mother's voice suddenly asked form the doorway.

Zuko shot his gaze up to his mother's concerned face and a slight ripple of relief flooded him. As silly as it was, he felt safe around her. With Mother around, he knew nothing bad could possibly happen. She always seemed to fix things and make things better.

"We need to have another talk," his mother said angrily as she grabbed Azula's wrist and dragged her out the room.

Zuko watched them go but the feeling of satisfaction he normally gained from watching his sister being taken to lecture was absent. His only thoughts were about his father and Azula's words.

What if…she had been telling the truth?

No. She was lying. She  _had_  to be lying.

"Azula always lies," he chanted again, the phrase coming back to him. "Azula always lies. Azula always lies. Azula always lies…"

~0~

Zuko woke up to the clamor of alarm bells ringing in his ears. He flinched at the noise and briefly wondered when he had fallen asleep. He certainly hadn't been planning on doing so but maybe he had finally given into exhaustion. He winced again as a particularly close bell sounded and jolted him into action. If the palace bells were ringing in the dead of the night, it meant he had to  _get out_.

Zuko called a small flame into existence over his left palm and pulled off his sheets to head for the door. His hair was askew around his face and he was only wearing his sleeping robes but he didn't have the time to worry about such things when possible intruders were inside and out for blood. He had been taught to react immediately upon the alarm, especially when every second could mean a step closer to safety.

He was halfway to his door when he stopped and hesitated. He cast a quick glance at the dual Dao swords hanging just a few steps away on the wall and swiftly decided to bring them along. The weapons were one of the few things he was good at and if worst came to worst, maybe they might end up helping more than his paltry firebending. Zuko quickly dashed over to the wall and lifted the swords free before slinging them across his back in one smooth movement. He only took one more look around his room just in case before opening his door and running out into the dark hallway.

The little flame over Zuko's palm was the only thing lighting his way. But he had grown up in the palace and, if forced to, he could navigate fairly well without it. He actually considered dousing his flame as he ran, thinking that it might bring more attention to him in such darkness where he was the only beacon available. Zuko bit his lip and glanced at his surroundings to gain his bearings before clenching his left hand shut.

The hallway was immediately drenched in blackness and Zuko faltered a bit in his pace. The abrupt lack of light had surprised him. He suddenly realized that for all eleven years of his life, he had never gone a single second without some source of brightness. During the day, the sun provided the warmth and brilliance. During the night, the lamps were lit and only stifled after he had fallen asleep. Even when he remained awake for the majority of the night, Zuko lit a small flame in his palm to comfort him. So when the darkness had descended upon the hallway as he ran, he had been startled to finally experience what pitch-blackness was.

Yet, after the initial shock, he did not feel afraid. He had heard some of the other noble children speak about their fear of the dark occasionally and he had been expecting the same thing to occur in his case. But his eyes quickly adjusted and the night began to take on different shades of gray and black. He noticed some of the darker shadows and instinctively clung to them as he continued down the hall. This absence of light wasn't uncomfortable to him. Yes, it was something new and a little foreign, but he felt an odd sort of kinship and understanding to it all. Nobody liked the darkness. Nobody wanted to remember it, to look at it. But it continued to prevail and provide the cover for those who did not wish to be discovered. He almost liked the shadows with all of its secrecy.

Zuko abruptly stilled his movements as his ears picked up a crash from behind him. It had been distant and far but he was unnerved at the thought that they were actually in the same vicinity. He shuddered as he realized that the intruders had most likely broken into his or Azula's rooms because their quarters were the only ones down that section of the hall. What if he had still been in his bed? Zuko's blood froze as another thought came to him. What if  _Azula_  was still in her bed? He should have checked on her first before running!

Zuko actually began to turn back for the smallest of moments before a hand shot out to catch his wrist and another wrapped itself around his mouth.

"Mmf!"

Zuko struggled against slim fingers and he desperately tried to speak out past the hand clamping his mouth shut but his form was too small. He wildly kicked, hoping to catch a shin or two but his efforts only met with air before the restraint around his wrist disappeared only to reappear around his waist. Zuko's eyes widened, recognizing what his captor was about to do and he could feel the flicker of flames tickling his fingers, acting in reply to his fear. His eyes only widened even further when his flames were forcibly stifled and terror almost froze his heart.

There were only a select few firebenders who could do such a thing. As poor as his technique was, Zuko knew he had inherited some of the royal line's strength and few inner flames outside of the royal line had the will to override it. Inner flame  _was_  will and the Fire Lord's line had spent decades cultivating and perfecting it. Stifling and forcing another's fire required a stronger will, for stifling flame meant defeating another's will. And this captor, whomever it was, had actually stifled  _Zuko's_  flame.

 _Agni._  What was he supposed to do now? Not only was he in the hands of somebody larger, but also somebody who had a stronger inner flame. And judging from the small and naturally delicate bone-work keeping his captive, Zuko was also fairly sure that the person holding him a  _girl._ Why did he have the worst luck in the entire Fire Nation?

Zuko had little time for his morbid thoughts as the arm around his waist swiftly lifted him off the ground, leaving him incapable of anything more than flailing uselessly with his limbs. He continued to struggle as his captor carried him further down the hall, away from his bedroom. The intruder turned abruptly at one of the crossings Zuko had known was coming and ducked into one of the smaller bedrooms.

As the door shut behind them, Zuko renewed his struggles and he snarled, "Put me down! Why are you doing this? Put me down!"

"Hush, Zuko," a soft,  _familiar_  voice whispered a little desperately into his ear. "It is I."

Zuko immediately ceased his movements and slackened his body into his captor's grip. He recognized that voice. He recognized these hands that held him.

"Mother?"

"Oh, Zuko, I'm sorry I had to do that to you. I know how much you hate it when somebody stifles your flame but I had no other choice. I couldn't risk talking to you where they might see us."

Zuko furrowed his brow and finally took a good look at his so-called captor. His mother's hair was pulled up neatly like it always was and her face held that comforting warmth that always calmed him down. Her hands were now soothingly rubbing his back as she held his body on her hip like she had done many times when he had been younger.

But something wasn't right. The large flame ornament that normally adorned her topknot wasn't there. Only a single crimson ribbon held her hair in place and a large traveling cloak covered her clothes.

"Mother, what do you mean you had to? Did you hear the intruders too? Is that why you caught me like that?"

His mother's brow furrowed and a strange flicker of guilt seemed to cross her face. "Zuko, I'm sorry my love but I can't explain now. I just need you to know that whatever I have tried to do, I tried to do in order to protect you." The princess pursed her lips before placing her son down on to the floor and kneeling down to match his height. "Zuko, I need you to come with me now. Away from here."

Zuko stared at his mother. What in Agni's name was she talking about? Leave here? Leave home? "Because of the intruders?" he asked hesitantly. But that wasn't right. He had been taught that there was a secret hideaway just a few more steps down this very hallway where a single tug at a certain porcelain vase's base would reveal it. Nobody but the royal family knew of it. That was almost guaranteed safer than trying to escape the palace where the intruders were already lurking.

"Zuko, please," his mother begged. "I need you to come with me. It isn't safe here anymore."

"But the guards will catch the intruders soon," Zuko said. "Once they're caught we're going to be okay. We just need to wait in the secret room, right?"

A pained look clouded his mother's eyes and she seemed to suddenly be on the verge of tears, as she replied, "No, Zuko It isn't the…intruders you should be worried about. Your life here just isn't safe anymore."

"Why?" he petulantly demanded. "Why are you saying that, Mom? This is our home. This is where we belong!"

"Please," his mother choked out. "Zuko, my love –"

Both of them suddenly tensed as the very same crash of somebody forcing open a door echoed outside the door. This time, though, Zuko caught the faint yells and heard some of the words.

"Maybe the intruder is down here!"

"No, she would have gone down this hallway!"

Zuko stiffened and whispered, "It's the guards. The sound I heard earlier…it was just the guards."

But his mother paid no heed to his words. Instead, she took his face in her hands and looked at him in the eye. "Zuko, please, do you trust me?"

"Yes," Zuko replied immediately. "I do, Mother. But what are you talking about? The guards are here now! We're going to be fine and – "

"No!"

Zuko froze at his mother's cold tone and then shrunk in upon himself. He had never heard that tone from her before. She had never spoken to him like that. Only Father or Azula or his teachers or the other nobles spoke to him like that. But never his mother. Never Mother.

"Oh, Zuko, I didn't mean that," Mother hastily murmured. "But you are  _not_  going to be fine. You are in danger, Zuko."

"No," Zuko whispered, betrayed. "No. The guards are here to protect us."

"Zuko, please – "

"No. No! You're wrong, Mom!"

Zuko wrenched himself out of his mother's grip and hurtled himself out of the room even as his mother called out desperately, "Zuko!"

But Zuko ignored her. What was she saying? He belonged here! Why would he be in  _danger_? He was the son of the second Prince. Sure there were some insane people out there for the royal family's lives but that was a risk they all lived with. Nobody within the palace itself meant him harm.

Right?

Zuko skidded to a halt in the hall and yelled, "I'm here! Guards!"

A slight clamor from down the opposite hallway and a smile graced his lips. They were coming. Now he could show Mother that everything was going to be fine. He turned to the room where his mother had taken him and faltered the slightest bit as tears streamed down her face like it had when the letter containing Lu Ten's demise had arrived.

"M-mom?" Zuko hesitantly said.

She shook her head and moved so quickly Zuko didn't realize she had done so until after his face was buried in her cloak and her arms were wrapped around him.

"Remember this, Zuko: I love you and no matter how things may seem to change,  _never forget who you are_."

And then, his mother was gone into the shadows that wreathed the night.

"My lord!" called one of the guards as he approached the confused boy. "Are you alright?"

Zuko jolted out of his stupor and quickly turned to the guard. "Ah, yes I am well. Thank you for your concern."

"Did you not hear the alarm?" the guard asked as several others of his group came to join them.

"I did but I heard your voices and here I am."

One of the other guards smiled in relief. "Thank goodness. We thought the princess had gotten you already."

Zuko wrinkled his brow. "Princess?"

"Princess Ursa, your mother," the guard said grimly. "She is the intruder we are looking for. And she is most certainly no longer a member of the royal family."

Zuko's breath caught in his throat and he suddenly felt sick. "What? Why?"

"She is wanted for attempted assassination."

A horrible idea began to bloom in Zuko's mind and he began to shake his head. "What are you talking about? Mother would never try to assassinate anybody. She wouldn't do that."

"My lord," the guard said, a touch of sympathy in his eyes. "Your mother tried to assassinate the Fire Lord."

~0~

It had seemed so easy. She knew Mother always went to give Zuko his little "good nights". All she had to do was go taunt her brother about what she had heard (with certain pieces of information left out, of course) and Mother would surely hear some of it. It would pique her mother's concern for her  _favorite_  child and she had only made it easier when she had demanded a talk.

Azula had obliged. A vague mentioning of a certain sacrifice and Mother was already on her merry way off to protect Zuko.

Azula had imagined Mother going to speak to Fire Lord Azulon himself. Even if the Fire Lord told her the whole truth, she would still reject the verdict. She loved Zuko too much to give him up. She had imagined Mother going to speak to Father but Azula had known nothing would change there. She had imagined her mother going off to warn Zuko himself but he had already proven how stubborn he was.

What she hadn't expected was her mother going off and trying to  _kill_ the Fire Nation's ruler. It had been too stupid and rash of a move. Azula hadn't expected it to happen. If it had succeeded, it would have been perfect. But her useless mother had gone and botched the job and now the Fire Lord was still alive and his verdict along with him. Azula was almost positive the attempted assassination would provoke her grandfather into acting sooner.

Everything had backfired. What had seemed to be a perfect plan had unraveled completely.

And for the first time in Azula's life, she realized that she had lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so some of this was still in canon but I can now confidently claim that, from now on, my version is going to be almost completely AU.
> 
> And in canon, I was actually rather unsure about whether Ursa was the one who actually killed the Fire Lord and had to leave because of that or Ozai killed the Fire Lord and Ursa decided to take the blame in exchange for Zuko's life. But I personally thought the best explanation was the first and it fit my story rather well. There are a myriad of reasons why she could have failed. As old as Azulon is, he must have SOME skill left in order to tell whether somebody out's to get you and defend. So Ursa failed in this one and now Zuko is left alive and alone.
> 
> Ah...Azula. Yes, she went and convinced her mother that the Fire Lord was literally demanding Ozai to sacrifice Zuko. But it backfired and now she can't do anything else for the time being.


	5. Part 1: Azula's Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

**Part 1: Azula's Truth**

It had to be a lie. It had to be. None of it could be true.

Zuko choked on his breath for the umpteenth time and clenched his fists in an effort to keep his emotions in check. The royal dressers glanced up at his discomfort but remained silent. They merely continued their duty, tying his hair into a perfect topknot and straightening his clothes within an inch of its life.

Yesterday, Zuko had changed into his formal clothes on his own because the call for the audience had been on short notice and in an informal setting. Normally, if one wished to see the Fire Lord, one filed for a meeting days ahead (weeks or even months if you weren't a part of the family) and prepared by dressing in one's finest for hours beforehand. One couldn't just arrive to speak with the Fire Lord so casually. It was a rare exception for the nation's ruler to take any requested audiences within the week let alone the day. It just didn't suit the Fire Lord to listen to petty squabbles and words when it wasn't on his own terms.

Yet here were the royal dressers preparing Zuko for an audience with the Fire Lord.

One that Zuko hadn't even asked for.

If it were up to him, he would have locked his bedroom door after the alarm bells had ceased and commanded his servants to leave him alone. He didn't want to speak anybody, to see anybody. He didn't want to think about what had happened, how his mother was… _gone_.

A part of him was actually glad that Mother had escaped. He couldn't imagine what horrors would have awaited her had she been taken in. Assassination attempts on any member of the noble class were grave crimes. Attempted assassination of the Fire Lord? That was just something nobody even bothered to consider. Not only was the punishment a long, painful death, but the chances of actually succeeding on such a mission was close to null. The security consisted of the finest firebenders and even if one managed to breach that, the Fire Lord himself was another challenge onto himself. He might be aging but he was still considered the most powerful bender in the entire nation.

Yes, Zuko was actually happy that his mother was, for now, safe to a degree. There would be wanted posters and a large bounty for her head for sure, but now that she was out of the palace, Zuko was confident that his mother could hide herself well.

But that relief was only a fraction of the larger part of him stung and hurt. The news of Lu Ten's death had only been delivered two days ago and now his mother (his  _mother!_ ) had tried to kill his grandfather. She couldn't be here for him anymore. Whenever he lost to Azula again or failed another demonstration, his mother wouldn't be there to help him back up. All those afternoons watching and feeding the turtleducks would only be memories now and that familiar scent of slightly burnt maple wouldn't linger in the rooms anymore. No longer would a patient wife quell his father's brief moments of fiery temper. No longer would Zuko feel gentle fingers carding through his hair in affection. No longer would he hear that melodious voice whispering encouragement to him.

But why? Why had she gone and decided to attempt such a suicidal mission? It was madness to try such a thing. Everybody knew it. Zuko knew his mother knew. She had always warned him about his manners and his self-control around those in a higher position than himself and, especially, around his grandfather. She had always told him that speaking out of turn or attempting anything rash would only land him in trouble. So why?

There was but only one answer: Azula.

It had to be her. Zuko wasn't stupid. He knew that after his mother had pulled Azula out of his bed last night, his sister had probably been forced to reveal the information she had heard in the throne room. Azula had most likely been dragged into the hall and the story pulled from her lips. But Zuko hadn't believed a word his sister had said. It was just too ridiculous a notion to even consider. His father, kill him? Zuko would rather bet that the Avatar was still alive. He  _knew_  it was impossible.

So why had his mother believed it?

That had to have been the reason why she had gone and tried to kill Grandfather. His mother had heard Azula's tale, trusted it, and gone to protect her son. But what was there to protect him from? Surely his mother knew that his father wouldn't do such a thing!

It was all just a convoluted mess in Zuko's mind and he let out a frustrated growl, causing the royal dressers to glance at him once more. He noticed their reactions and forced himself to take deep breaths.

Maybe…maybe his mother had a reason to believe Azula's tale. Maybe his father  _had_  to carry out the deed. Maybe his father had been forced to…to…

No! Zuko bit his lips. Even if his father had been forced to do so, he would have done everything in his power to find a way out of it, to protect his only son. His father wasn't a cruel man. He loved Zuko and the only reason why he wasn't like mother was because he was the head of their family and had to enforce a form a disappointment at his son's obvious failings. Zuko knew he was a disappointment to his father. That was nothing new. But that disappointment wouldn't cause his father to actually agree to do the deed, right?

But his mother obviously thought otherwise. But she, of all people, knew Father wasn't as harsh as he put himself to be. He was just good at what he was supposed to do and it was all Zuko's fault for not earning the affection that Azula earned.

The traitorous part of Zuko's mind whispered contrasting thoughts. No, it whispered. Father  _would_  have gone and killed you. He would have. That was why mother had to try to kill the Fire Lord so that she could save you from such a fate. You should have gone with her when you had the chance. But just because she spoke one harsh word to you, you turned away like a  _child_  and sealed your own doom. Now there's nobody to save you.

Zuko let out a pained cry at those thoughts and the faintest flicker of flames wreathed his clenched fists at his loss of control. One of he royal dressers closer to his hands actually emitted a slight shriek at the unexpected burst and stumbled back to avoid being burned. Many of the palace workers were actually non-benders and Zuko felt a stab of remorse at causing the woman such a start. She didn't deserve to suffer at his expense. She was only here because it was her job and Zuko had nearly hurt her because he couldn't get a hold on his emotions.

"I'm so sorry!" Zuko hastily exclaimed after the dresser had stepped back. "I-I'm just a little shaken by last night's events. I shouldn't have allowed myself such a lapse and I apologize."

The woman's first reaction was surprise at Zuko's words. The elite palace workers always saw the higher class meander through their daily rituals but few had ever had the honor of actually speaking to one of higher position. Most nobles saw it beneath them to speak to mere workers and the scholars invited to the palace were often too involved in their studies and books to even give anybody else a second glance.

But after the initial shock, the woman's face melted into a sort of motherly understanding that Zuko had seen so many times on his own mother's face and his heart constricted as she replied, "It is alright, my lord. I should not have reacted so. I should have had more trust in you and continued my duties without a word."

Zuko flushed and awkwardly stood in place before the dresser settled back into position and the finishing touches on his personage were completed.

When the women had finally left him and he was alone in his room, Zuko let out a long breath and tried not to think about his mother as he idly sat on the edge of his bed. He made sure to leave his clothes unruffled and nervously thought about the upcoming audience with his grandfather instead.

Had Azula actually been telling the truth? She couldn't have. Zuko wouldn't believe it because believing meant saying that his father really did mean him harm and that he wasn't safe in the palace anymore. It meant that everything he had grown up with was a lie and that he wasn't meant to remain in his position of royalty. For so long he had depended on the foundation of his strong but strict father, his kind mother to ease the wounds, and his belief in his birthright. Already one of those foundations was gone and if he believed Azula now, it would destroy the rest and leave Zuko with nothing to hold on to.

Zuko took another shaky breath and resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair in anxiety. Instead, he slipped a hand underneath his pillow and pulled out his knife for reassurance. He was ashamed to admit that he hadn't brought it with him last night when fleeing his quarters. It should have been the first thing he grabbed but in the rush of the bells and the surprise of such a sudden threat, it had completely flown out of his mind. Zuko was ashamed to think about it and he felt like he had failed his cousin. This knife was something left behind from the days when things were actually  _right_  and leaving it behind had made Zuko feel like he had forgotten to bring such a  _right_  with him. Like the chaos and cacophony had taken over his life and forced him to forget the times when things were good and happy.

Zuko ran pale fingers along the knife's sheath and gently gripped its edges to lift it off and reveal the characters inscribed into the blade that he knew so well.

Never give up without a fight.

It sounded like something Lu Ten would say.

It sounded like something  _Mother_  would say.

Zuko allowed himself to smile shakily at the thought and he shoved away his misgivings. Azula was a liar. He was sure of that. He was also sure that his father loved him and he had nothing to fear of the upcoming audience with the Fire Lord.

He was Zuko, first and only son of second prince Ozai and Lady Ursa, and now third in line for the throne.

Zuko sheathed the knife and slid it back under his pillow, musing about what to do with Azula's lie. It made him feel pleased to finally have something over her and a vicious fury now burned at his insides.

It was his sister's fault that his mother was now a fugitive and he would be damned before he let this go so easily.

~0~

Azula wasn't accustomed to nervousness. It just wasn't something she experienced on a daily basis like her pathetic brother did. He was a failure. She was perfect. Simple as that.

But now that the Fire Lord had summoned Zuko for a private audience right after her mother's assassination attempt, she knew that she had to do something fast before her own plan backfired on her.

Her plan had, actually, already backfired in that Zuko would now be pronounced Crown Prince after Uncle Iroh. She knew that if she had enough time, she could convince her brother to believe what she had told Mother but time was something she didn't have. And even if she did manage to convince her brother right here and now, she knew that there was no chance of his trying to escape before the audience. The security was just too high right now and the meeting was only in ten minutes time.

Azula couldn't avoid her brother's new position anymore but she could force Zuko to keep his mouth shut about the lie when speaking to Grandfather. It would be disastrous if he spoke of it in the throne room. The Fire Lord wouldn't trust her to anything anymore and word would spread. The influence she had been gaining all her life would be down the drain and, worse than anything else, he father would hear of it and be furious.

So it was with bitter defeat and complete frustration eating at her heart that she entered her brother's room a few minutes prior to his private audience with the Fire Lord.

"Hello, Zuzu," she purred as she opened the door a little harder than she had intended.

"Shut up, Azula," Zuko retorted. He was so predictable. Azula could read him like a book and she knew that, given the chance, she could rip him to pieces with that knowledge. But now wasn't the time.

She ambled up to his bed like she had done the night before and said, "So Mom is gone."

That fiery anger lit up in her brother's eyes. "Yes. Thanks to you!"

"You injure me, dear brother. It wasn't I who forced her to try such a stupid assassination."

"You told Mom," Zuko hissed. "You told her those  _lies_."

"But they weren't," Azula grinned. "What are you talking about? I wasn't lying when I said Father would kill you." And she wasn't. Father had said so.

"He wouldn't. Dad loves me."

At that, Azula burst into laughter. Did her ignorant brother actually believe that nonsense? The only person you could trust was yourself. Didn't he know that? Father didn't love him. Every day after practice, Azula would get an earful of how disappointing her brother was. She knew Father. She knew he wanted nothing more than to get rid of his weak son. Weakness wasn't something Father tolerated and Zuko was a living testimony of weakness.

"Why are you laughing?" Zuko demanded furiously. "There's nothing to laugh about!"

"Oh, you are so  _naïve_ , Zuzu," Azula laughed. "You actually think that Dad wouldn't kill you?"

There it was. The smallest flicker of doubt in her brother's eyes. She could work off that. She could work with doubt.

"Of course he would kill you. He had to," Azula said in mock seriousness. She didn't miss the sign of faint confirmation and recognition at the claim. So Zuko had actually considered the idea that Father was forced to do something like kill his only son. This just made it all the easier. "When Grandpa said that, he didn't give father a choice. Either that, or…" she leaned in with a whisper, "kill  _Mom_."

Zuko's eyes widened and he gasped, "What?"

"You heard me." Azula drew back. "He gave Dad the option of you or Mom. And of course he chose Mom. Wouldn't you, Zuzu?"

Her brother seemed at war with himself. She could almost hear his thoughts. It was so pathetic Azula was hard pressed to keep her mirth in control. He was falling for this hook, line, and sinker and she had only said a few words to him.

"But Mom didn't want to see you die. So she tried to kill Grandpa and now she's gone. Since Mom's gone, who knows what Grandpa will do? Maybe he'll kill you." Azula paused to watch Zuko pale at the thought. "Or maybe…he'll do something worse."

"What might he do?" Zuko asked fearfully.

"He might actually make you leave the family and be Uncle's son instead."

Confusion immediately painted her brother's face. "What? That's not so bad."

"He's trying to break us up, to punish Dad for asking for the throne," Azula said. "He's trying to break up our family and it's already working. Mom is gone and soon you will be too."

Zuko was at war with himself again but he manged to say, "What…what should I do?"

Azula could taste sweet, sweet victory on her tongue. "You're going to have to obey him, of course. You can't just refuse him outright. Then he would just kill you. But you have to keep this a secret between us. If he finds out that you know of his plan, that I overheard, he'll just kill the both of us. I would tell you to run away like Mom but you're going to have to meet him in a few minutes and the security is too high. After you speak with him, there's no escape, Zuzu."

Zuko licked his lips. "Maybe we should tell Dad."

"No!"

Her brother jumped in surprise at her tone and a flicker of suspicion entered his face. "Why not?"

"Because this way we won't get Dad involved. This way, it will be easier on Dad. He won't have to act like us. He won't have to live knowing that Grandpa is trying to ruin our family. You don't want to put more burden on Dad, right?"

"But…don't you think Dad would have figured it out like you have? Don't you think he would realize that the Fire Lord is trying to split us?"

Was Zuzu always this observant? Azula bit the inside of her cheek to keep from growling in annoyance. "Dad won't know. He probably thinks that now Mom is gone, his punishment is now complete and naming you Uncle's son is just the last of the punishment. He won't think that his own  _father_ would try to ruin his family just like we would think, and know, that Dad would never try and split us up. Grandpa is just a mean, old man who's going to die soon anyway and his bitterness is taking over."

That probably got to Zuko. If anything, Azula knew that making him feel guilty about father and Mom's disappearance would be more than enough persuasion. Zuko had always been weak that way and now it would work to her advantage.

"You have to remember this and never tell Grandpa any of this," Azula emphasized. "He can never know. And, for that matter, nobody else can know either. They would just rat us out."

Zuko hesitated and quietly murmured, "Why should I trust you?"

"Because," Azula said with all of the sincerity she could muster, "you might be a dum-dum but you're  _my_  dum-dum and  _nobody_  messes with our family."

Ugh. She felt like gagging. Azula had never believed, in a million years, that she would be spouting this touchy feely nonsense. But if this would be what it took to convince Zuko to keep his mouth shut then she would have to bear with it and wash her mouth later.

Azula was surprised to still see a trace of uncertainty and distrust in her brother's disposition at the end of her declaration but was pleased to hear him say, "Alright. I won't tell Grandpa. Or anybody else."

Azula broke into a brilliant smile. "That's a good dum-dum."

Zuko was silent before he quietly said, "But if you're lying again Azula, I swear I'll get you back for this."

Like that could ever happen. More like he would land on his face while trying to do so. But now wasn't the time to insult Zuzu. She had to placate him for now and take comfort in her small victory.

~0~

"Look at me."

Zuko couldn't stop his hands from trembling but somehow managed to lift his head out of his respectful bow to look at the Fire Lord above him.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Was Azula telling the truth? Zuko hadn't completely believed her. It was just too far-fetched for Grandfather to name him Uncle's son to punish Father. If Grandfather did that, it would mean placing Zuko as the next Crown Prince. That was a large, risky move and Zuko was almost sure that it wouldn't happen.

But what Azula had been telling the truth? It certainly explained why Mother had a reason to believe why Father would do something like kill his only son. He knew how amazingly persuasive his sister could be and that she had an innate talent for lying. But sometimes she told the truth when it hurt even more. As strange as Azula's reasoning had sounded, he didn't want to take any chances and decided to keep his mouth shut about their conversation until after hearing the what the Fire Lord had to say. If Grandfather proclaimed as Azula had said he would, Zuko would trust her and never breathe a word of their knowledge. If Grandfather proclaimed otherwise, Zuko would just reveal Azula's lies and that would be that.

"You have grown, Zuko," the Fire Lord mused from his seat. "I did not have much time to address you yesterday but now that we have some time to ourselves, I can profess my observations to you."

Zuko uncomfortably shifted under his grandfather's scrutiny and decided not to reply. What was he supposed to say to that?

"No need to be so tight-lipped. Speak, Zuko."

Zuko grappled for something to say and lamely replied, "I haven't grown that much, my lord."

If he hadn't been so uptight, Zuko might have actually caught the twitch of a smile on the Fire Lord's lips. "But you have. I haven't seen you properly since your sixth birthday. How did you like my gifts, by the way?"

Zuko couldn't completely stifle the smile that broadened on his face at the mention of the dual Dao swords and shyly said, "I appreciate them very much, my lord. I have since learned to use them and I thank you."

"I thought you might like them." There was a moment of silence before the Fire Lord sighed and leaned back. "But enough of that. You are most likely wondering why I have summoned you."

"Yes, my lord," Zuko said, his throat dry.

"Yesterday, after you departed, you father asked for a very…presumptuous favor of me."

Zuko had to stifle his increased trembling and asked the expected question. "What was the favor my father asked of you, my lord?"

"Your father, immediately after hearing of his own brother's loss, asked for the throne, Zuko." The Fire Lord's face was grave. "He was betraying his own brother in the time of his darkest hour. Perhaps you do not realize it now, but losing one's son is one of the cruelest fates the spirits could condemn us to."

Zuko's breathing was picking up pace and he had to force himself to maintain control. He knew where this was going and he was almost afraid to hear what his grandfather would say.

"Your father had to be punished for such an action. And I have deemed that his punishment must fit his crime."

The eerie words echoed in Zuko's mind from Azula's recounting of events the previous night. She had said the exact same words.

"My lord?" Zuko asked tentatively. "Perhaps you could spare my father-"

"Do not interrupt me, Zuko," his grandfather reprimanded. "Remember your place."

Zuko fell silent and surreptitiously rubbed his sweaty palms against his lap.

The Fire Lord looked at his grandson for a moment before continuing. "Your father needs to be punished, Zuko. You must understand that Ozai is also my son and it is for his benefit that I do this."

For Father's benefit? How could punishing his father be a  _benefit_? Zuko looked down at the floor for a moment to control himself before looking back up. He felt sick and he was suddenly terribly sure of what his grandfather was going to say next.

"Your father must learn the pain of losing his firstborn and the price of his arrogance. Prince Iroh has lost his son and I deem it fitting that you be named your uncle's son…and next Crown Prince."

Zuko didn't say anything for a while. Everything was just washed out by a roaring of horror in his mind and the pain of admitting that Azula had been right. She had been telling the truth. Grandfather really  _was_  trying to destroy their family by sending them their separate ways. That preposterous notion hadn't been so preposterous after all. The Fire Lord had just named the next Crown Prince and altered the line of succession. Grandfather was old and everybody knew that Uncle would soon take his place. Nobody voiced it, but everybody knew it. But Uncle wasn't young either and while he might rule well for another twenty years or so, the throne would most likely move on to the next heir's hands after so short a time. It was that next Crown Prince people were watching for and suddenly, Zuko was now that person.

The enormity of such a heavy responsibility weighed on Zuko for a moment before it caved to his anger. Grandfather had been the cause of his mother's disappearance and was the cause of his father's new grief. He was the reason why Zuko's family was now in shambles so soon after hearing of Lu Ten's death. Zuko couldn't trust his grandfather. His grandfather was the one causing all of this pain and hatred's cold grip wormed its way around Zuko's heart.

Zuko wanted nothing more than to stand up and shout in fury. He wanted to lunge at his grandfather and demand why he was so cruel, why he was doing this. But he knew he couldn't and that was why he sat quietly in place, actually taking Azula's advice and accepting the Fire Lord's decision.

"It must be difficult to completely take in," his grandfather said, breaking the silence. "But do not worry, I am sure Prince Iroh, your new father, will teach you of your new position and I will personally employ new tutors to ensure your success."

Zuko didn't want this. All he wanted was his mother, his father's approval, and a sister not so hell-bent on outshining him in every aspect of life. All he wanted was a happy family and acceptance. He didn't want power or prestige. They were only sweets to be indulged in after achieving his main goals first. But it seemed like the spirits had a personal vendetta against him and gave him everything he didn't want.

"You find this arrangement suitable, do you not?"

Zuko jerked out of his thoughts and stoically nodded. "I…If you deem it the appropriate action then I will do as you command, my lord."

The new heir to the throne was surprised to see sadness overtake his grandfather's features at his words. "Zuko, I know this must be difficult for you. I know that, especially with your mother…" The Fire Lord pursed his lips. "Just know that in this situation, I trust you. I trust that you know what is right…and what is wrong."

Zuko bit his lips. He wouldn't take that as a compliment. He wouldn't. This was the same man who had split his family. This was the same man who had made his mother a fugitive. This wasn't somebody he could take at face value.

When Zuko didn't reply, the Fire Lord sighed and said, "You are dismissed, Prince Zuko. The rest of the nation shall know by tonight of your new position. I will have the palace servants help you move your belongings to a new room and a new schedule sent to you by tomorrow morning."

Zuko bowed and stiffly stood before walking out of the throne room in a haze of disbelief.

As he passed by the back curtains, he heard a rustling and snapped is head around to see Azula exiting from her eavesdropping position and a knowing spark in her eyes.

"Told you so," she smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I digress, there are flaws in Azula's arguement. A LOT of flaws. But we have to remember that Zuko is vulnerable right now. He's eleven for pete's sake. His beloved cousin just died, his mother is pretty much banished from his life, he faces the possibility that his father might have actually killed him in cold blood, and he is now the next Crown Prince. Fun stuff. So Zuko wants SOMETHING to hold on to, somebody to blame for everything and a reason for it all. Azula gave him that reason: the Fire Lord.
> 
> He's a child and therefore his thinking skills are a little limited right now.
> 
> Oh, and editing for grammar and spelling and stuff was kind of nonexistent here so if I messed up sorry about that!


	6. Part 1: Not a Morning to Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

**Part 1: Not a Morning to Remember**

Zuko opened his eyes as the sun began to peek its head over the horizon. He could feel his inner flame reacting to it and a deep sense of warmth and strength infused his body. It was like stepping into a warm bath after a chilly day. He enjoyed the nighttime, odd for a firebender. But there was certain coldness to the shadows that made him feel less a prince and more of just another mortal in a world of mortals. It was almost easy to see himself royalty, of higher status than those who toiled in regular labor during the day when the sun fueled his bending and his strength. But at night, the strength was gone and he needed to rely far more on his simple physical prowess. It was slightly humbling to experience a portion of what non-benders lived like.

But when the sun returned, Zuko always welcomed it and he couldn't help but smile each and every time. This morning was no exception but the smile disappeared as quickly as it had come as the last few days suddenly came back to him.

Zuko pulled himself into a sitting position and stared at his blankets. It was strange to see the expanse of his bed so much larger than it had been before. In his peripheral vision, he could see the slightly darker shade of the floor and the solid gold decorations that lined the bedposts. His sheets were made of even finer silk, from the best silkworms of the Tzu Province, and the robes he was wearing were made of the same material with gold thread now lining his sleeves and collar, dictating his new status. He shivered and pressed his palms to his eyes to avoid looking at them.

He wasn't in his room anymore. As luxurious as his old bedroom had been, it had only been the bedroom of a son of the Second Prince in a private villa further away from the heart of the palace. This room was considerably different and just a hallway down from the Firelord's own.

This was the bedroom of the Crown Prince's new son.

Zuko groaned and wished that when he removed his palms, everything would just disappear and be would be okay. Maybe Mom would walk in and say good morning or Azula might poke her head in to jeer at his bedhead. Anything would be better than opening his eyes and realizing that this was all real, that there was no going back.

His hopes were shattered when the door opened to reveal not one, not two, not three, but  _four_  servants enter, fully prepared to answer every whim of their new Prince. It took Zuko a great deal of self-control not to moan again. Just yesterday he had only one maid for daily service and three at most when preparing for important events like an audience with the Firelord. Now he had a norm of four for mundane tasks and who knows how many for formal occasions.

Then, to Zuko's complete horror, all four immediately prostrated themselves before him once inside the room. He had never had anybody do such a thing for him before. At most, some maids had bowed at the waist. It almost embarrassed him to have them so respectful when he was only half awake, his hair a complete mess, and his robes in disarray. The complete truth of it all sank into him as he stared blankly at their positions and he wanted to just jump up screaming that he wasn't a prince, that he wasn't ready for any of this. Everything was moving too quickly for him to comprehend.

"Good morning, Prince Zuko," one said, forehead still to the floor. "On behalf of all of us, I must congratulate you on your new position. It will be our honor to serve you."

 _Prince Zuko._  Grandfather had called him that yesterday, as he was walking out, but hearing the actual title from another's lips slammed into him like a ton of bricks. Zuko could only gape blankly for a long moment before he snapped his jaw shut and managed to say, "Thank you."

When they didn't move, Zuko bit his lips. "Uh…and please rise. I – you don't need to bow to me like that." As he noticed one of the maid's lips open to reply, he quickly added, "At least not from now on." He smiled shakily. "It would just be bothersome first thing in the morning, wouldn't it?"

The servants now had their heads up, almost gaping at him before the first maid who had spoken smiled back and introduced herself. "Thank you, Prince Zuko. My name is Hua and I shall be your hairdresser."

Another maid to Hua's right spoke next. Zuko noticed how tall she seemed which was odd for females. Her face was long and severe, the ideal schoolteacher look. "My name is Meili, Prince Zuko. I shall be your clothes coordinator."

"Prince, my name is Ting and I shall be cleaning your room and clothing," smiled a third. Her hair seemed a dark shade of brown as if the complete black shade that all Fire Nation residents sported had been suntanned out of her. It was understandable, Zuko reasoned. After all, the cleaning sector had no shade in order for clothes and other cleanable objects to dry quickly.

The last servant was noticeably shorter and smaller than the rest, the complete opposite of Meili. He was the definition of petite and the only male out of the four who had entered. Had he been female, he might have been rather beautiful for feet were small and his skin like porcelain, something many women probably envied. "My name is Qi. I shall keep track of your schedule for you and your appointments." He pulled a scroll from one of her sleeves and a stylus from another. "I shall come every morning and every evening to verify and remind you of certain deadlines, invitations, or meetings that you might wish to address, attend, or decline." His voice was prompt, quick, strong, and to the point – quite a contradiction to his stature.

Zuko nodded once. "Thank you. I suppose I will be getting to know you four very well." A wry grin touched his lips.

Hua laughed stood up with the other three. "That, you will."

A thought struck Zuko as he threw off his covers and clambered out of bed. It made him feel sick and a wash of grief rolled over him. "You weren't…Lu Ten's servants by any chance, were you?"

Meili answered in a curt voice. "Of course not. It goes against protocol to send another's servants." She made it sound as if that explained everything and when none of the other three said anything otherwise, Zuko supposed that it did.

"So," he blushed, "how exactly do we start?"

"Normally Ting would be the first in to wake you and clean the room as you freshen yourself up," Hua supplied. "And it might take us a few days, but we'll know how long it should normally take you to do so and Meili would come in next to inform you of the proper attire for the day. I would be after that to get your hair into shape and Qi could come anytime between Meili and me to inform you about your schedule."

Who would have known that being a prince would be so tiring? Zuko had barely been awake ten minutes and already he felt as if his brain was overloading. In a way, he was grateful for it. All of this kept his mind busy, occupied, and away from thoughts like his mother's treason and his Grandfather's agenda to destroy his family. He couldn't stop and have all those memories take over when it was filled with new information. It kept the memory of the last few days at bay and, for now, Zuko was just happy for that.

The only part of the morning that Zuko got right was during his time alone, freshening up. The rest of the morning's preparations could only be described as his own, personal humiliation set-up. He was utterly confused by the descriptions that Meili spoke of. He knew of day-to-day attire and formal attire, but who had ever heard of breakfast, lunch, supper, resting, training, and active attire? And that was only one-twentieth of the many sets of clothes that he had to now become accustomed to. It baffled his mind that anybody could possibly need that many varieties.

At least Hua's hairdressing and Ting's cleaning had been standard for him. Those had been things he had grown up with and sitting still in place for somebody to tie his hair wasn't that difficult a task to complete in the first place. But add a session of Qi rattling off a hundred different meetings, appointments, and lessons and he was completely lost again. He had to ask his scheduler to repeat everything three times before he had gotten it committed to memory.

By the time he was alone again, Zuko's head was actually spinning a bit from it all. Did Lu Ten have to grow up with this? It was a wonder he hadn't gone insane! At least his schedule wasn't that different from his old one. The only changes he had were completely new tutors for his lessons and a few hours every day dedicated to informing him of his new responsibilities as the Crown Prince's son.

That, and now he could no longer eat dinner with his family anymore. Now he was to eat dinner with Uncle (he wasn't prepared to call him Father quite yet) and Grandfather.

Which, in combination with his full schedule, meant that he would only see Azula and Father during special events.

It hadn't really meant much at first. Zuko had been too busy trying to absorb everything Qi was spitting out. But now that he had time to actually recognize what he had memorized, Zuko felt lost and angry. What right did the Firelord have to separate him from his family like this? He was already distant from them already. Now that he was practically heir to the throne and scheduled differently, he would only become more ostracized.

The thought made his chest constrict and he had to bite his lips to keep himself under control. He couldn't start thinking about that now. He had to actually get through this first before allowing himself any sort of leniency. The only way he could get this done was if he kept busy and away from any reminders.

Which was pretty difficult now that all of his clothing was accented with gold and the new weight of a solid flame ornament was now tied to his topknot.

Zuko grit his teeth and forced his feet to take him out of his new room and into the corridor beyond. Keep busy, he told himself. Keep busy and you won't have to remember.

~0~

He was a little startled to arrive at the dining room's double doors so quickly. After eleven years here, his feet had almost memorized the layout of the palace.

The imperial firebenders standing before the door seemed emotionless as they tilted their masked faces to glance down at him. They wore armor completely painted red to place them above the other soldiers and carried a single spear more for appearances than anything else. Zuko knew they never learned to use it. Firebending was an art that many proclaimed was more than enough for battle. For a bender to pick up a weapon was considered lowly and a testament to their own weak prowess with the gifts he/she had been born with. Zuko, of course, thought this nonsense (especially since he was relatively proficient in his Dao swords) but he didn't dare to voice his opinion for fear of further disdain.

Zuko couldn't tell what was going on beneath those skull-like masks but they moved aside without a word and opened the doors to gain him access. He hesitated just the slightest bit before he straightened his back and walked inside the grand dining room with all the dignity he could muster. It unnerved him that he would be alone with his grandfather until Uncle returned but he definitely wasn't going to show it.

The entire dining room was large with a tasteful mixture of gold and crimsons. The pillars that lined the sides were intricately carved with dragons and a long, low table occupied the center of the room. A red mat with cushions lined the perimeter of it for diners to seat themselves and a beautiful arrangement of peonies and lotus buds to match the season. The whole north wall, made entirely of glass, welcomed the rising sun's brilliant rays and added the final touch to make the royal dining venue almost ethereal.

Zuko couldn't help but sigh in relief upon seeing nobody else in the room yet. He would have time to seat himself and prepare for his grandfather's presence.

Except, now that he thought about it, he wasn't so sure where exactly he was supposed to sit.

It was tradition for one's firstborn to be seated at one's right hand. In this case, it meant that Zuko was meant to sit two cushions away from the Firelord since Uncle would normally occupy the seat closest to Grandfather. But etiquette dictated that it was rude to leave any of the Firelord's surrounding seats empty when they could be filled. Since Uncle wasn't back yet, following etiquette would mean seating himself at Grandfather's right hand. There was nothing, however, dictating what he should do in a situation where etiquette and tradition clashed. Or maybe there was and Zuko just didn't remember it.

He bit his bottom lip. Zuko had a fifty-fifty chance but chance had never favored him. He was almost positive that if he chose one, the other would have been the correct choice. That was just how much Zuko had come to realize fate and luck hated him.

But he didn't have any more time to agonize over it as he heard the doors creaking open. Zuko glanced towards the entrance in sudden panic. He had to decide now! How silly would he look standing here like a dumbstruck fool? He didn't think before hurriedly seating himself at the cushion closest to the Firelord's.

As the Firelord stepped inside, Zuko noticed that his grandfather was dressed as impeccably as he always was. His royal robes draped about him with a sense of regal power and he stood with poise despite his old age. He waved away the guards who had made to follow inside and Zuko was left alone in a room with the nation's Lord.

To Zuko's astonishment, the very first thing his grandfather did once they were alone was walk up to the north wall and bow with his forehead to the floor.

Zuko stood up in surprise and gaped. The Firelord bowed to nothing! "My lord –"

"Agni is the ultimate lord of the land," his grandfather said, his voice strong but gentle. "It is only proper that I, only a mere mortal, bow to him every morning."

Zuko was half standing, unsure whether he should join or remain where he was. It was strange to hear something so…modest coming from the most powerful firebender in the world. He would have never thought, in a thousand years, that the Firelord would place himself beneath anything. Zuko had always revered Agni. He had always personally thought the sun the ultimate lord (after all, how else did they firebend?) but he had thought nobody else shared his sentiments. Half of the time he had felt like a traitor because he did not think the Firelord the highest in the land. Now, his grandfather was telling him that eleven years of worrying over such a thing had been pointless. The Firelord himself shared Zuko's belief and that made him feel comforted and understood. In that moment, as his grandfather prostrated himself like any other mere Fire Nation citizen, Zuko felt a strange connection between them.

But the feeling was quickly crushed as Azula's words from yesterday returned to him. He couldn't trust his grandfather, no matter how nicely he painted himself. For all Zuko knew, this could all just be a ploy.

"Come, Prince Zuko. Why do you stand there so?"

The new prince jolted out of his thoughts and obeyed before he could register the words. He was by his grandfather's side a moment later and he bowed before the sun.

The traitorous feeling of comfort returned to Zuko as he knelt there with the Firelord. The sun's comforting power and warmth relaxed him and his grandfather's presence was, for a lack of words, non-threatening. Zuko couldn't help but think that he had never felt this way with his own father before. With his father, he had always felt tense, poised for criticism. With the man who had destroyed his family, he felt like he could be himself and not be reprimanded for it.

What in Agni's name was wrong with him?

The Firelord took in a deep and raised himself into a standing position before bowing once more, his hands forming the Flame. Zuko hastily copied his grandfather's actions before returning back to his seat at the table.

He had just settled into the cushion when an amused voice, so unlike any Zuko had heard from anybody other than his mother, chuckled, "Prince Zuko…I didn't know that you preferred the left side of the table."

Zuko flushed a deep red. How stupid of him! He should have known where he was sitting! This was just humiliating. He cringed inwardly at the oncoming lecture. He was supposed to remember everything he had learned.

But, to his further shock, the Firelord only smiled a bit at his grandson's mistake and motioned to his right. "Everybody makes mistakes."

Ugh. There went that strange feeling of warmth and safety again. It made him feel guilty to take such happiness from all this. But how could he help himself? Nobody had ever brushed off his absentmindedness like this before. Only his mother had ever done so. Why was his grandfather making it so hard to hate him?

As soon as Zuko was finally seated in the correct place, servants appeared from hidden doorways carrying plates laden with food as if by some unheard signal. He gulped as enormous portion of fresh fowl arrived in front of him with a hearty serving of rice to the side. There was nothing else because breakfast was meant to be a light meal, but the idea of having a whole fowl (given, it was small) to himself seemed a bit much. Back in his old life, he had equally luxurious foods but the thought of eating so well made him feel sick today. Grief over his cousin's death and his mother's disappearance had desecrated his appetite.

A few minutes passed as he tried to finish his meal in relative silence but he only managed to complete a quarter of it all before he felt like his stomach would explode. Zuko fiddled his chopsticks around the rice to in an attempt to make it appear smaller in portion and his fowl a little more eaten but it soon became obvious after ten minutes that he was getting nowhere with his food.

His grandfather cleared his throat and Zuko glanced up in alarm, sure that he would be admonished for his poor eating habits.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but it seems like I don't feel quite well today and –"

"Prince Zuko," the Firelord said in a calm but silencing tone. "Please do not presume to know what I am about to say before I say it." Zuko clamped his mouth shut and sat with his hands clenched in his lap. "I did had no intention of reprimanding you for your appetite." A sort of quirk lifted the Firelord's lips again. "You can't control your stomach capacity, can you? Just remember, though, that while I will not force you to finish your meal, I expect you to think about the people who worked to prepare and raise the animals and crops necessary for this. It is the fruit of their toils."

Zuko's cheeks were flaming red. "I apologize, my lord."

"It is quite alright. I only wanted to remind you."

That strange feeling of comfort returned and Zuko suddenly wanted to escape this room, escape his grandfather who was being anything but what he had expected. He had thought everything would be akin to a meal with his father, formal and perfection expected. But the Firelord had gone and done everything but portray that. He was, indeed formal, but it was neither stiff nor uncomfortable. It had a sort of nobility to it that only befitted one of such power and he hadn't expected perfection at all. He had seen Zuko fumble through the morning without so much as an uncharacteristic grin.

What business did the Firelord have smiling in amusement so much anyway?

"May I be excused?" he asked abruptly and curtly.

His grandfather looked at him for a long moment. "Are you sure, Prince Zuko? Perhaps if you need to discuss your new schedule or your new duties? I would be willing to speak with you. I am freest in the mornings and evenings."

Zuko's heart clenched and he desperately gasped out, "Thank you for the offer, my lord, but may I be excused?"

The older man let out a heavy sigh before nodding. "You are excused, Prince Zuko."

The Firelord had barely finished uttering his permission before the new Prince dashed out of the room as if a komodo rhino were at his very heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, that was sort of a filler chapter. But I had to start off his life as a prince somehow right?
> 
> And Azulon...I have no idea where I got the idea that he might actually be "good" (and he isn't - he still had some questionable beliefs) but something about the way he defended Iroh in canon made him seem not as cruel as one might expect a descendent of Sozin's line to be.
> 
> It might seem strange that Azulon is suddenly almost nice to Zuko. But he was always like this. It's just that all those other times we saw him, he was either furious at his second son or speaking to his grandson after nearly being killed by his daughter in law. The last scene I wrote is when he is alone with his grandchild with nobody there to see. So he was more lenient and forgiving than he probably would have been had he been in public. But he really does love his family (even Ozai) so I actually rather like his character :)


	7. Part 1: A Lotus in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that will get me sued.

**Part 1: A Lotus in the Night**

"Long day, Prince?" asked Hua as she undid his knot. Her soft, kind voice soothed Zuko's overworked mind and he relaxed into the chair he was seated in.

"It was difficult," Zuko conceded.

Meili shuffled a bit in the background, apparently debating on what he should wear to sleep (of all things). "It's expected," she murmured, distracted. "It is a new position, my lord."

That was about the understatement of the century. Zuko had no idea that being a Prince would make everything so much more tiring. When he walked in the halls now,  _everybody_  stared at him. They appraised him, giving him looks they would give a new purchase of some sort. It unnerved him and he tried to walk as fast as dignifiedly possible through the halls to avoid the attention. They seemed to be trying to see why the Firelord had chosen the failure as a potential ruler and while it was too early for them to say much, Zuko was almost sure the scholars and nobles were making bets on how long it would be before he broke down under the pressure. They had done the same years ago when he still hadn't yet made his first flame.

Even the tutors he had now were completely different from the ones he had for years. Before, he was comfortable enough to daydream when the subject proved to be too dull for his liking. He honestly tried to keep his attention in place, but the droning voices of the scholars his father had hired often put him to sleep more than they did educate.

The tutors Zuko had been assigned now as Prince were completely different animals. What had once been an easy class to sleep through was now a grueling test to his mental capacities and he dared not allow his mind to dawdle lest he find himself sharply reprimanded and more work to be finished. He had received the same before but, somehow, his new tutors made everything seem more real. Every piece of information as like a shard of glass placed into his care: beautiful, delicate to care for, and sharp enough to injure if dropped and forgotten.

Yet it wasn't necessarily all negatively directed.

History (one of Zuko's least favorite) had been a great story after another. The great feats of past generals and the subtle workings of the politics that lead from one thing to another were told in such a way that Zuko  _wanted_  to pay attention. Even when the subject had lingered on the reasons why certain things happened and how it affected the rest of the nation and world, the lesson had been more a discussion between himself and his history master than a monotone explanation. His new teacher had forced him to pay attention because if he failed to catch even one snippet of information, he fell to floundering during the intense questions and conversations they had conducted following the lesson. Rather than being a burden to Zuko, it had been more a game. A game of how much he could remember and extract from the information to battle his tutor in a battle of words and theories.

The same could be said for all of his other subjects. Each and every one of his new instructors quickly found what kept Zuko engaged and, while he was loathe to admit it, he had actually enjoyed the classes. It was unnerving to find them so intriguing already. It had only been a day and Zuko could already tell he would like his lessons far more than he once did.

But that didn't, by any means, make the workload any easier. The classes might have been more interesting, but the amount of work he had to do seemed to have increased tenfold. By the time he was out of his private tutoring rooms, Zuko was almost staggering with the sheer amount of assignments he had to accomplish. He thought he had it hard before. Now he had less time and more work to finish.

"I'm sure the workload will improve over time," Hua soothed. "You just have to get used to it. I'm sure the Firelord is easing you into the position."

Zuko shuddered at that thought. If this was  _easing in_  than he was worried to see what the actual job of Prince entailed.

As Hua finished with his hair and Meili left with his clothes left on the neat bed already cleaned by Ting, Zuko calmed his aching muscles in a quick, warm bath before dressing and reaching for his assignments. It pained him to have to begin his work already, but he honestly had no choice. Zuko still had about two hours before he should go to bed and if he wanted to arrive prepared for tomorrow's lessons, he would have to start his assignments now if he was to have any hope of finishing. It almost depressed him because this was normally time to himself but if this was what he would have to do, than Zuko supposed that this was what he would have to do. In a way, all of this work was good for him. This way, he'd be too busy and too tired to think about his mother and his cousin.

He was just finishing his history summary with a flourish of his wrist when a thin hand gently rested upon his shoulder. Zuko reacted out of years of training and had the person straddled between his legs on the ground with a knife to the person's throat before he could even register that he had finished the last character on the paper.

"M – ah – my Prince?" Qi weakly croaked out.

Zuko blinked uncomprehendingly for a split second before he abruptly jolted off his servant and slipped the knife back into its sheath inside his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Qi. I…didn't know it was you."

"It's quite alright," the man replied, pulling himself up and picking up the scroll and ink pen he had dropped. "I should have known better than to startle you like that, Prince. Everybody knows the royal family is well trained."

Zuko was grateful that there were only the few candles around his workplace to illuminate his room. The darkness of the prevailing shadows covered his rapidly reddening cheeks at the indirect compliment. "Still, I apologize."

He was startled to see a semblance of a grin quirk Qi's lips before it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Prince, I apologize for coming at so late an hour but I had some information to gather and certain schedules to accommodate for yours. I didn't expect to see you still up, though. It is well past midnight."

Zuko's mouth opened a little in surprise and he quickly felt for the sun's position. Indeed, it was well past midnight. He had intended to go to sleep an hour ago. Had the time really flown that quickly when he was working?

"Oh…well I suppose I might as well hear what you have to say then."

Qi nodded and motioned towards the seat Zuko had been seated in. "Please sit, my lord. This might take a bit."

The only upside to the outrageously long list his servant recited from the scroll was that Zuko had it memorized with only two tries this time.

Zuko grinned at the thought and Qi noticed it.

"Did something amuse you, Prince?"

"It was nothing," Zuko replied. "It's just…it's still rather surreal. All of this."

Zuko didn't know what made him say it. Maybe it was his tired mind or maybe it was just the fact that he was finally alone with somebody male around ten years of his age, somebody who could possibly relate that he had spoken so leniently.

Qi was silent for a long moment as if contemplating whether he should reply or not but he finally said, "I can't say exactly because I'm fairly sure I'm not Prince but I can imagine. It must have been…hard for you."

"It was," Zuko pursed his lips and suddenly the memories he had been trying to avoid came rushing to the forefront of his mind. "I – I just think it's so strange for  _me_  to be here, to be the next heir. They expect  _me_  to rule one day and…"

Qi sighed. "I honestly can't say what will happen but I think you will make it." He smiled a little. "You managed to memorize the schedule faster the second time around a little faster."

The sudden relation to his previous thoughts made Zuko laugh aloud and soon, the both of them were laughing. They didn't really know why. Was it the absurdity of a Prince and servant suddenly conversing in the dead hours of the night? Zuko didn't know but it felt good to laugh, good to finally allow himself to feel something after everything he had gone through. By the time he quieted down, silent tears were falling down his cheeks and he couldn't quite say whether they were of mirth or grief.

Zuko knew Qi could see the tears in the light of the candles now that they were closer to his working desk but he found that he didn't really care. It must have been the shadows that addled his mind but he didn't really see Qi as a servant more than he did just another boy to talk to.

"Thank you, Qi," he murmured. "I…I will see you in the morning."

Qi looked at him in surprise. "But, Prince, I thought I just told you your schedule?"

Zuko grinned. "I'll see you in the morning."

His servant looked at him blankly for another long moment before a genuine smile broke his normally stern visage and he bowed low before quietly exiting the room.

When he was alone once again, Zuko sighed and gently snuffed out the fire burning away the candle wax. He conjured another flame, cradled within his cupped palms to light his way to the bed and watched it die away as he nestled himself in soft blankets.

Zuko stared blankly at the canopy of his bed and brought forth a picture of his mother in his mind. Her pale skin, her gentle lips, her comforting embrace…

He grit his teeth as tears threatened to fall again and he shifted harshly on the bed in an effort to occupy himself. As he did so, he heard the distinct sound of paper crinkling and he curiously allowed his hands to wander about in search of the noise. He welcomed the distraction from his thoughts but felt nothing on his blankets. He heard the noise again as he shifted and pinpointed it to be in his sleeping robe pocket. Zuko felt for it and his fingers soon grasped a small, piece of folded paper.

Even in the darkness he could feel its outline and the shaped it formed: a lotus.


	8. Part 1: The Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender.

**Part 1: The Mask**

Zuko quietly fingered the small piece of folded paper as he sat upright in his bed with the first rays of the sun tickling his face. He gingerly ran his hands about the delicate petals and he marveled at how well it was made. The color was queer though and he was a little amused to see that it was not a white lotus, but a black one. Who had ever heard of a black lotus?

Zuko grasped the edge of it and carefully began to unfold it. He was interested to see how one made an origami lotus. Never before had he seen one so intricately made. Maybe he could mimic the folds and make a lotus of his own. It was a little strange to find such a trinket in his sleeping robes but perhaps one of his servants wanted to lighten his mood. The thought made Zuko smile and he felt a little less heavy than he had the night before.

Just as he finished unfolding the entire paper flower, he noticed the smallest of blemishes in the corner of the last petal he had unveiled and brought the black paper closer. He stared at it for a few moments before he finally realized that it was not a blemish, but an intentional mark in white ink. It was almost too small to decipher, but Zuko could just barely make out the message.

Congratulations, Prince.

A small smile touched Zuko's lips and suddenly the idea of being Prince wasn't so bad. Of course, there would be dissenters and those who wished him to be gone but there were also those who saw him and didn't completely think him useless. It was most likely one of his servants who felt obligated to serve and make him comfortable but the feeling of such encouragement made Zuko feel lighthearted in his predicament.

~0~

The next few weeks were more of a blur than anything else for Zuko. His grandfather had, thankfully, been absent during many of his meals. The Firelord had been scarce and Zuko gratefully finished his food free from such a fierce gaze. His grandfather honestly unsettled him and he was often confused in the man's presence. The strange moments of understanding obviously contrasted everything Zuko knew about the Firelord yet he found himself almost wanting to believe it all true; he didn't want to believe that his grandfather was determined to ruin his second son's family but all of the proof was there. Zuko couldn't ignore nor forget.

His lessons continued to be fruitful – in other words, incredibly demanding. His tutors never relented and soon, Zuko found himself forced to alter the way he had been working. Before his transition to Prince, his life had been one large mess. And that included his academic life. There was no doubt that his current tutors had heard the horror tales of the "hopeless failure" and the "lazy good-for-nothing", but they never deviated from their determination to transform Zuko into the honorable Prince he should be. There was a zealousness that occupied their very embodiments and Zuko couldn't help be swept up in it.

His teachers honestly loved what they taught and that gigantic dedication rubbed off on the newly made Prince. It was very difficult to remain disinterested when his tutors often broke out in passionate rants regarding their subjects.

So after a couple of weeks, Zuko had been forced to completely renovate his methods of studying and spending his free time – if he had any free time to spend anymore. Just as he had the first night as Prince, Zuko now spent almost every waking moment outside of his lessons completing his assignments.

Yet, in all honesty, things were getting easier. That routine of constant working had become just that: a routine. Zuko was far from efficient in his new life yet, but he had begun to feel less and less stress when finishing his workload. Even the never-ending stream of it had ceased to be such a novel experience.

The only lesson that he truly still struggled in was the one regarding his Firebending.

"No, Prince, breathe deeper, stronger!" the deep, bellowing voice of his master commanded. "You cannot form anything more than a spark with that!"

Zuko stood, gasping and sweating in the middle of his own, private practicing courtyard. At first, the idea of a private courtyard had been a relief; nobody could pass and giggle at his mishaps any longer. But Zuko quickly realized that such isolation also allowed his teacher more privacy to enforce his strict demands. His new instructor was the only one out of his many new ones that had not quite changed in attitude or teaching style from his last.

He straightened into his beginning stance again and breathed, about to begin. But as soon as he so much as twitched a muscle, his master interrupted again.

"No, no! You must gain more strength, more  _fire_  in your muscles before beginning! You cannot begin with such a slack stance! You need more passion, more fury!"

Zuko wanted to snap back that his master had more than enough of said passion for the both of them but he knew better than to do so. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to summon up such strength. He tried to imagine his fiery energy flowing through him, amassing and preparing before the strike. His master had mentioned fury. Maybe if he tried to get mad…

The angry and frustrated sigh from his teacher dissipated Zuko's concentration and whatever grasp he had begun to manage on his bending followed it.

"We are getting nowhere," the man growled out. "Perhaps tomorrow your complete incompetence will be slightly less noticeable. Now get out of my sight. I do not need a headache on the day of the Fire Festival."

Zuko didn't hesitate to obey; he wanted to get out of his Firebending teacher's presence just as much as the man did. The Prince quickly bowed and disappeared into the intricate halls of the Palace.

It was only when Zuko neared his bedroom did he realize and remember that today  _was_  the day of the Fire Festival. He had been so engrossed in his studies and his duties that he had completely forgotten to keep track of which day was which. Then the strange notion that he had spent an entire holiday  _studying_ made him sigh. Apparently, a Prince didn't even have days like this off; nobody had even mentioned what today was until his Firebending tutor had absently commented on it.

Zuko opened the doors to his chambers and raised his eyebrows when he saw his daily scheduler standing inside. "Qi?"

The older teen – bordering on manhood – immediately sank into a low bow. "I apologize, my Prince. I did not know you would be back so soon."

"What's there to be sorry for?" Zuko's lips quirked up in humor despite his trying and exhausting lesson just a few minutes ago. He had gotten to know his servants well enough; it was difficult not to when he saw them every single day. Out of all of them, Qi had turned out to be the one he spoke to most often and the one he usually spoke his mind to. For a stiff-necked scholar Qi was pretty good company.

The scheduler grinned a little in embarrassment. "I didn't exactly complete your plans for the rest of the day yet."

Zuko untied his topknot and stepped towards his private bath. "I thought it was the same? Nothing has truly changed much since we started."

"Today is the Fire Festival. There was supposed to be some different activities to celebrate the day after your lessons but I hadn't quite gotten to mapping them out quite yet. The other servants have plans for the Firelord but I had wanted to do something different for you –"

"Why don't I just go to the town's festival?" Zuko asked. "It's just outside the palace and it wouldn't require any planning at all." And it had been the same one he had been attending since his childhood. Just last year, his mother had taken him there, back when Lu Ten had been alive too.

Qi looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, my Lord, those celebrations are a little…"

"I used to go all of the time. It is a great event, isn't it?"

"It is, but it is very uncommon for the immediate royal family to attend."

Zuko froze in the middle of untying one of the knots securing his clothes. He had forgotten. Of course the immediate royal family never attended. The rest of the royal family did; they were not so well known. But for somebody of his current status, staying in the Palace and celebrating away from the "common" rabble was expected. Going down to the local town and walking amongst the citizens just would have been strange.

Zuko bit his lips. "Oh. Right."

Qi frowned sympathetically. "Prince, if you would like, I could perhaps plan some time with the Firelord –"

"It's alright." Zuko turned to smile at his scheduler. "Thank you for putting so much thought into it though, Qi. It means a lot." He turned back and continued with his knot. "I think I'll just work tonight. I can't afford to fall behind already. I'm still new to this."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be any trouble for me."

"Just go and have fun tonight, okay?" Zuko said with a sad smile. "You're supposed to celebrate too. And tell the same to Hua, Meili, and Ting. All of you deserve some time to yourselves."

Qi clearly wasn't satisfied with his Prince's answer, but it was clear in Zuko's tone that the subject was closed. So the scheduler bowed once more with murmured thanks before walking out and closing the door behind him.

As soon as Qi was gone, Zuko flung himself into his first self-prepared bath since the declaration of his new status. He didn't bother with the scented oils or the petals that always accented his cleansing nowadays; he just sank himself into the water, boiling it with his inner fire as he closed his eyes.

He had never spent a Fire Festival day alone before. He had always had some member of his family close by whether it be his cousin, uncle, or mother. He had always taken the day off to just amble about and he had always gone down to the town to taste some fire flakes made by the street vendors and watch the small puppet plays that littered the corners. It was one of the few days that he was ever allowed down among the commoners and it was one of his favorite days because of that. He rarely ever got to experience what it was like outside of the royal court but when he did, he reveled in it. Azula had always hated being exposed to "those filthy lowlifes" but Zuko had always found their freedom and their casual mannerisms intriguing.

That didn't mean he disliked life as a member of the royal family. That definitely wasn't it. He was proud to be a member of Sozin's line and one of the few who ever received the honor of living his whole life practically among the relics of victories past. He was privileged and had wealth at his fingertips that few could ever hope to achieve in their lifetime.

Yet sometimes, Zuko couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to be born into one of the common families.

He sighed and breathed some bubbles into the water. He should stop being such a child; he was a Prince now. He had to man up and realize that life couldn't continue the same way it had been before. He was supposed to be responsible and take it with dignity and honor.

Zuko let out a frustrated groan. Who was he kidding? It had only been a few weeks for Agni's sake! Just a few weeks ago he was just the second Prince's son, a nobody in relative terms. How was he supposed to deal with all of this? How fair was it that he was deprived of the one day that the entire Fire Nation celebrated? How lucky was he to be stuck in his room on the night when fireworks decorated the sky and candies of all sorts were available?

Zuko pursed his lips. Well, he  _had_  instructed Qi to leave him for the rest of the day and he had also told Qi to inform the rest of his servants to take the day off as well. Nobody entered his quarters except for those four and perhaps nobody would miss the fact that the Prince had missed just  _one_  dinner. Nobody was looking for him and nobody would be looking for him. Nobody would notice if he just left right now…

The Fire Nation's prince abruptly pulled himself out of his bath and drained the water. He warmed himself dry with a quick burst of heat from his skin and wrapped a towel around his waist. Searching through his extensive wardrobe, Zuko finally managed to salvage simple, black clothes that would allow his body easy movement and flexibility. It was a miracle, really, that he managed to find it among his countless other silks and expensive dressings.

He quickly pulled the clothes on and glanced about, as if somebody would come barging in any moment. What was he doing? Was he really going to just do this? What if he as caught? What if somebody saw him? But as these doubts and questions ran through his head, his body seemed to move on its own, strapping a dark pair of boots on his feet and sliding his Dao swords on to his back – just in case.

Before Zuko could finally convince himself that this was stupid and that he really, really,  _really_  shouldn't be doing this, he was out of his window and dashing out of the palace grounds.

~0~

It was by pure luck that he hadn't gotten himself caught by now. Of that, Zuko was absolutely sure. He wasn't used to sneaking about; most Firebenders weren't. How could they be when bright and ferociously  _noticeable_  offense was what they capitalized on? He tried to cling to the shadows and carry his feet as softly as possible but somehow he managed to step on every single possible noisemaker that could exist in a palace (a loose tile and a stray branch of the normally perfect fire-lily bushes just to name a few). Yet for all of his mishaps, the palace guards didn't notice him or they were too caught up in the festive mood to notice.

Either way, Zuko was surprised to find himself meandering among the excited children and amused adults at the local Fire Festival.

He was fairly sure that if this were any other day, people would be questioning his rather monotone choice of clothes color and his weapons. But most probably looked at him now and just assumed he was another attraction going on a break. That was the beauty of a good, wild celebration.

Zuko was dismayed to realize that he hadn't thought far enough ahead to bring money for the foods offered but he still managed to enjoy himself by watching the plays, the acrobatic demonstrations, and the constant show of fireworks in the air. He was smiling for the first time in weeks and the part of him that wasn't screaming at the stupidity of his decision was glad to be out here. It made him feel warm inside when he saw this many people so happy and content; it made him want to keep them smiling forever.

"Hey, you new here?"

Zuko turned to see a young girl about his age grinning up at him. She was dressed in a simple, cotton gown and her hair was plainly combed to flow down her back but her smile was genuine. "You could say that."

"I haven't seen you around, that's all," the girl smiled. "And I pretty much know everybody here in the capital." She leaned in close as if telling a secret. "Because I keep a tab on things like that, if you know what it mean."

Zuko stared at her in confusion. "Um…okay?"

"My mom says it's great that I make so many friends," she boasted proudly. "I make it my personal business to remember everybody I meet!"

"Really? Why is that?"

"Because it's fun," the girl giggled. "And you need to relax. I'm not  _that_  creepy. I just have a good memory."

Zuko crossed his arms. "You're really weird."

"Says the one carrying  _swords_  on his back."

Zuko tensed. "I'm a performer."

"Uh huh…I don't think I've seen a sword performance yet around here."

"Then you haven't been looking hard enough."

The girl shrugged and dropped the subject. "Well, I just saw you walking alone and I was wondering if you'd like to wander the rest of the night together? My mom positively loves staring and betting on the Pai Sho games but I think they're more boring to stare at than spending a week in school. I need some real entertainment."

It wasn't everyday that Zuko just had somebody his age ask him to have some fun together. The novelty was so strange that he almost said no because he was so uncomfortable. "Uh…sure?" She only laughed and grasped his arm to pull him about.

Zuko was pleasantly surprised to find that the girl was not that bad of company. She liked to joke a lot and she seemed to know all of the best plays and acts that visited every Fire Festival. They watched some puppetry, magic acts, dragon dancing, juggling, and small light shows. He was almost dragged into a fighting bet because he was carrying his Dao swords and the girl was pulled into a betting game of dice that she promptly won. They ended up splitting the winnings despite the lack of help that Zuko had provided and it turned out that he did manage to enjoy a few of the foods.

"Wow, you really aren't as uptight as you seem at first," the girl smirked as she watched him laugh at one of the comedy acts. "Look! He can smile!"

"I hope Tui and La come and get you in your sleep," Zuko grinned back. He hadn't been this relaxed in a long time. Who knew that this was what it felt like when people actually wanted to talk to him? The closest he had gotten was talking to Qi but even then, there was the barrier of servant and Prince. Here, he was just another person amongst many.

But his temporary relief did not last long. It was while watching a Firebender perform that Zuko heard the dreaded, familiar tone.

"Pathetic. And these people think  _this_  is proper form?"

Zuko whirled his head to the side to stare in horror at the small figure clothed in a deep red, silk dress, hair in a topknot with two bangs hanging about her face, and a condescending twist to the blood-red lips that mocked everything and everybody around her.

_Azula._

If she saw him now, Zuko was fairly sure that he was doomed.

His sister seemed to sense a presence watching her and she instinctively turned her head in search of the presence. By the time she locked her eyes on Zuko's position, however, he was already running away and pushing himself through the crowd. He distantly heard his companion's shout for him to wait but he ignored it; right now, Azula was his main concern.

 _Oh, Agni._ This  _was_  a stupid idea. Zuko had no doubt that she was chasing after him now. Azula had impeccable instinct and he was fairly sure that she would decide to chase the retreating figure. Why would somebody run when they had nothing to run from? She would leap at the chance of a hunt for that was what she thrived upon. Zuko ran like the Water Spirits themselves were after him. If he could just find some bend, some way to get her off his tail!

In his desperation, he tripped on one of the street stands and fell face-first into one the vendor.

"I'm so sorry!" Zuko gasped out. He wanted nothing more than to help the poor man back up but he couldn't allow Azula to catch up. "I really am!" He stood up and prepared to run again only to instinctively flinch and catch whatever the irate vendor had tossed at him. "I'm sorry!"

And he was running again, away from the festive music, away from the bright lights that kept away the darkness, away from the smiles and the laughter and the carefree attitudes that had been so comforting moments before. It was only when he had finally snuck back into the palace and into his chambers that Zuko finally allowed his heart to stop beating a million times a second and the terror of his sister's terrible glee upon catching him to dissipate.

Zuko bitterly grit his teeth. What a fool he was. Of course he couldn't live that life, that life of a normal child out there. It was nice for a little while but he had to face reality. He wasn't like the rest of them. He couldn't afford to be like the rest of them.

The thought made him want to cry.

But he had had enough of crying. He had cried when Lu Ten died. He had cried when his mother left. He had cried when he had failed to perform for his father. It was about time he stopped wasting time weeping and more time focusing on what he had to do. In many ways, focusing on his duties was the only way to stop the grief that he wanted to succumb to.

Zuko moved to change into his sleeping gown when he realized that he was still holding whatever the vendor had thrown at him in anger. He curiously looked down and stared into the blank eyes of a well-carved and simply painted mask.

How fitting that he would end up with the one character with the one tragic ending in a play of happy endings.

Maybe that was why the Blue Spirit had always been Zuko's favorite character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Till next time!


	9. Part 1: The Wang Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender or anything that could get me sued.

**Part 1: The Wang Brothers**

It was about a month after the Fire Festival that Zuko began to notice the strangest of occurrences. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced or seen before – something so out of the ordinary he had balked and stared in astonishment when it first happened. He had believed it to be a fluke of some sort or some sort of mistake. But when it happened for the second and third and fourth time, Zuko began to think that maybe – just maybe – the small "accidents" weren't exactly accidents anymore.

It got to such a point that when Qi came into Zuko's quarters one night to review the young royal's activities, Zuko eventually managed to ask, "Is it protocol for servants to bow in the halls now?"

The question had clearly thrown the scheduler off if the slightly astounded expression on his face meant anything. "What?"

Zuko sighed and hoped to Agni that he wasn't going off the deep end. "I've been noticing that the servants have been bowing to me in the halls."

"Prince…I'm afraid I don't understand your question. All bow to the Royal Family whether they are servants or not. And the servants are not allowed in the halls, my Lord. They have their own separate passageways in order to avoid disturbing the Court. I do not know when you could have possibly passed them during your day." Qi eyed Zuko shrewdly before a ghost of a smile touched his lips. "But perhaps you  _have_  taken the less conventional pathways around the palace…"

Zuko shrugged it off, hiding his embarrassed expression by turning around and busying himself with the several scrolls he was preparing for his next tutoring session. Of course he knew about the separate passageways already; he had grown up here after all. He had discovered them when he was younger and thought the palace a gigantic mystery to unravel; it served him well when he wanted to avoid the eyes of the many nobles who passed by and judged. The servants had been startled at first – one had even thought him lost and tried to direct him back to the main halls! – but over time they had become habituated to his sporadic presence.

Zuko was used to the small signs of respect when he did encounter one of the servants. It was always the typical simple bending at the waist. But the kind he was seeing lately was distinctly different from what he was accustomed to. Now they actually paused when walking, looked up from their daily business to give him proper eye contact, and really truly  _bowed_.

Complete with their hands forming the Flame.

It was an undeniable declaration of respect. Those who made the Flame were showing reverence to not only one of higher position than themselves, but also to one whom they themselves believed to be worthy of their regard. It was compulsory when facing one as important as a Sifu or a Crown Prince or a Fire Lord. But as elevated as Zuko's new status was, the servants were hardly obligated to show him the same esteem. He had not done anything noteworthy yet to warrant it; he hadn't toppled cities, led armies, or mastered the most impossible of forms.

Qi just seemed to instinctively understand what Zuko was asking as he shuffled his scroll shut and let out an exasperated but fond breath. Suddenly, he was no longer Qi the Scheduler, but Qi the one person Zuko could actually talk to on a normal basis. The switch between the two had become more and more commonplace over the weeks and Zuko would have been lying if he said he didn't appreciate it.

"Prince, I think…may I be frank?"

Zuko nodded, giving his permission.

"I think you underestimate yourself." Qi eyed his Prince carefully before finally shifting his mouth into a full smile. "Prince Zuko, if you are still truly confused about the servants' behavior, just remember that it is the small things that matter."

The sudden image of a young servant girl – probably newly recruited – running into him during one of the first times he took the separate passageways as the Crown Prince's new son abruptly came to mind. She had been profusely sorry and begging for forgiveness but Zuko had hastily told her not to worry; her complete panic had caused him to panic in turn and he had ended up assisting her pick up the things she had dropped.

Zuko shook his head. No, there was no way something so small had mattered enough. He used to do that plenty of times before he had been named the Crown Prince's son. The servants hadn't displayed the Flame to him before. What was so different now?

Qi seemed to notice Zuko's inner dilemma but he only continued to grin. "I think I will leave you for today. I will see you tomorrow morning, my Lord."

~0~

The afternoon following his brief conversation with Qi was the first free block of time Zuko had been allotted since his new elevation in status. He had taken the news with the widest of grins; most of his outside work was completed for a change and the relief of some time off helped lift a weight off his shoulders.

Call him sentimental, but the very first place Zuko decided to visit was the small courtyard where the little turtleduck pond resided. Something – nostalgia? – pulled Zuko towards it even if somebody of his station was not often seen in the farther quarters. He ached at the realization that he would be feeding the small animals alone. A month was not enough time for him to truly reconcile everything that had happened. But a larger part of him demanded that he return to keep the memories of his mother alive. The pond had always been their favorite place to meet and lounge underneath the Agni-given sun. It had always been Zuko's escape and he hoped that the same would still apply even with one essential person missing.

Zuko was relieved to find the courtyard empty. Not very many occupants of the palace visited this particular spot because it was distinctly separated from the rest of the main halls but in the past, Azula had enjoyed utilizing the space. He missed his sister and father of course, but Zuko just wanted to spend this time alone.

The grass, the trees, the little rocks surrounding the pond, and the occasional quack from the turtleducks all seemed exactly as it had been the last time he had come. This place had not changed. Perhaps there was another duckling or two, but the calm air and sense of tranquility had remained – something Zuko was grateful for. It made him smile a little to imagine this sanctuary as the eye of the storm; everything else had been altered in a whirlwind of chaos but this was the one cornerstone Zuko could rely on.

Zuko quietly stepped out of the shadows of the shaded pathway and breathed out a sigh of contentment as the sun's rays brushed his skin. He paused to take in the slight simmering in his veins as he soaked in the energy and reached down to pull off his boots in a sudden urge to feel the earth beneath him, to take in his surroundings unrestricted. He might be stifled in every other aspect of his life now, but right here and right now, he would be free.

He was glad that he had chosen to wear his more casual garb as he made his way over to the small pond. It made him feel as if he was back in the past when things still made sense and the world hadn't turned on its head. A slight grin touched his face as he settled into a sitting position at the water's edge and he reached into his pockets to extract a loaf of bread. Zuko had taken the liberty of nabbing this particular loaf from the kitchens on his own (which had been far easier than he had thought it would be). Qi had already left and he was loathe to stop one of the busy servants not assigned to him just to request something he himself could easily procure.

As if sensing the sudden appearance of food, the turtleducks began to chorus in a host of cacophonous quacks. Zuko laughed at their excitement and pinched off a small piece before throwing it into the pond. Almost immediately, there was a mass riot among the ducklings for the small morsel before they dispersed to claim the several other pieces Zuko had thrown in during their initial rush.

Zuko wasn't really quite sure how feeding some small animals gave him such satisfaction, but he did enjoy just watching them move and live and thrive. Their world was so small, restricted to a single body of water hardly wider than a few meters wide and perhaps a little more land around it. All they had to worry about was when the next feeding session would arrive and whether the temperature of the water was to their liking. They had no predators here and, in Zuko's opinion, no worries. Nobody was here to judge them or criticize them for what they did.

Zuko was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice the presence behind him until a voice said, "Prince Zuko."

Zuko's first thought was that his sister had come by coincidentally or perhaps his father had been taking a quick stroll. But he quickly realized that neither of them had the same deep and gravelly tone of voice he had heard behind him. Finally recognizing who was addressing him, Zuko immediately turned around and fell to his knees, his forehead to the ground. "My Lord."

Zuko didn't dare look up until his grandfather finally said, "Rise, Prince Zuko. I did not come here to see the back of my grandson's head."

Zuko obeyed the command with an expression of placidity upon his face. He tried to keep himself composed and silently hoped that his pounding heart would not give him away. His mind was whirling with theories as to why the Firelord had so abruptly gone out of his way to visit an obscure location like this. What did his grandfather want? Zuko a had seem him several times over the past few months, of course, but it had hardly been anything outside of their meals. Zuko had finally accustomed himself to those periods of time, bracing himself and determined to keep himself detached. And it seemed to work since the only sound that normally pervaded the dining hall now were their movements. He had been settling himself into believing that perhaps his grandfather had actually decided to leave him alone.

Never before had the Firelord taken the time out of his busy schedule to come to Zuko rather than the other way around. It unnerved the young boy and it made him want to bolt.

"Relax, Prince Zuko. I have only come to speak to you."

About what? Surely he hadn't done anything wrong over the last few weeks. He had studied diligently, followed his schedules, and behaved to the best of his ability. Surely…surely that little relapse he had back during the Fire Festival hadn't reached the Firelord's ears? Zuko had been sure he hadn't been caught!

"Please, Prince Zuko." His grandfather's eyes were softened more than Zuko was accustomed to, lines Zuko hadn't known existed until now decorating the Firelord's face. It was a little strange to see his grandfather – the powerful ruler of the Fire Nation – seem so  _human_. "Breathe. I had thought a month would be enough, but clearly it was not."

It was embarrassing to say that the Firelord had managed to recognize Zuko's sudden panic but the younger obeyed, taking in breaths as he had been taught to. Zuko was (pleasantly) surprised to sense himself calming down and after a few moments, he was as settled as he had been before. He had managed to control himself.

Something he'd never been able to do in front of Father.

The Firelord nodded in approval before he too settled on the ground beside his grandson. Zuko was surprised enough at the movement to raise his eyebrows but he didn't ask why the highest authority in the Fire Nation had decided to sit on grass and dirt. It wasn't his place to question the nation's Lord. "I am aware that this is your first break and I desired to question you briefly about your progress."

Zuko took a deep breath and dutifully replied, "My progress is acceptable, my Lord."

"No trouble?"

"…No."

The Firelord ignored the brief pause Zuko had let slip. "That is good. I have been hearing from your instructors and they are pleased. Quite pleased. You are not what rumors might paint you, grandson."

A part of Zuko hated himself for feeling pride and excitement at his grandfather's praise. This was the same man who had catalyzed his family's separation. This was somebody he should despise. Yet some piece of him still soaked in the approval, something he had never received from anybody but of his mother. "You give me too much credit, my Lord."

"It is good to be humble. But be sure to look back once in a while and acknowledge your growth. You  _have_  grown." The Firelord's gravelly voice brokered no argument. The man looked at Zuko, taking in the young boy in front of him.

The silence made the young prince uncomfortable. He had never been very good with breaks in conversation and to fill the gap, Zuko held out a piece of bread. The Firelord raised a white eyebrow, a flicker of something – amusement? – touched his eyes. He did not comment and simply took the offering to begin feeding the turtleducks. The impatient creatures did not hesitate to begin another riot for the morsels and Zuko couldn't help but smile again at their antics. The young prince noticed, with surprise, that his grandfather was also smiling.

"It has been too long since I have taken the time to feed the turtleducks. It might surprise you, grandson, but I was also once young and your great-grandfather shared your interest in them. He would frequently take me to see them."

Zuko was startled yet again. He had never heard much about his family in such a mundane manner. The battles, the feats of valor, and grand overtures he knew very well. Everybody in the Fire Nation knew those well. In a way, Zuko had always seen his family as others did: great beings who had Agni's favor and could do the impossible. They had never been relatable and weren't meant to be. His tutors had hardly taken the time out of history lessons to speak of his ancestors' pasttimes and Zuko had always known his ancestors were to be honored above all things. He was proud of having the best lineage in the world, but lived in constant worry of never being able to live up to that standard. He too was royalty and now, more than ever, people expected more out of Zuko than he thought he could offer.

Hearing about his family out of revered context made the young prince slightly uncomfortable and perhaps a little relieved.

"Did you come to this pond?" Zuko found himself asking, curious.

"There are several other ponds in the palace. There is one closer to your quarters, a little hidden. Perhaps I could show you next time."

The hint of future meetings with the Firelord made Zuko anxious again, capping whatever interest had previously opened him up. The young prince often felt trapped with his grandfather and confused. There were too many conflicting emotions Zuko had and they were harder to ignore when the elder man was present.

The Firelord seemed to sense his grandson's discomfort and the smallest of sighs passed the man's lips. "Prince Zuko, I am aware everything is still new to you. You are adjusting well. But I had also hoped that after a month you would be more receptive to me."

Zuko tried very hard not to let his anger get the best of him. How could his grandfather – an actual stranger to him until a few weeks ago – expect him to open up? Sometimes all Zuko could see when he sat in the Firelord's presence was the man who had broken his own son's family. Princess Ursa was now a blacklisted traitor to everybody in the Fire Nation and Prince Ozai was still the talk of the Court.

Anger simmered close to the surface, but Zuko knew better than to let it overflow. His grandfather could sentence his family to worse if he spoke out of turn here. Instead, the young prince replied, "I apologize, my Lord."

There was a pause after that, neither royal offering any sort of concession. Zuko looked at his grandfather in the eye and refused to say any more than his apology. He noticed absently that he had inherited the Firelord's bright golden eyes. It was something none of his immediate family shared and for the first time, Zuko realized where he had gotten them from.

The elder man finally conceded, giving the last of the bread to the turtleducks and rising to his feet without any remark upon his grandson's stubborn stiffness. He allowed Zuko to rise to his own feet, as was expected, before speaking again. "I will continue to give you time. But I cannot indulge you as much as I have been. The Court already believes me to be lenient. We shall share all of our dinner meals together from now on and you shall come to me for your firebending instruction twice a week in addition to your regular lessons. You are improving, but your teacher has found you lacking. I will personally ensure that this does not continue." Zuko's shock at the last statement must have shown on his face because something softened in the Firelord's voice. "This is not punishment. I must simply do what I must to ensure that you are suitable for your new position."

Zuko couldn't reply. He only bowed deeply and stayed in such a position until his grandfather left the courtyard. Only then did the young prince allow the despair he had ignored the last few weeks to overcome him as he buried his face in his hands to hide his exhaustion.

~0~

The impromptu meeting with his grandfather left Zuko distinctly uninclined to spend the rest of his day in the palace grounds. It had slowly begun to feel like home again, but he felt stifled at the reminder of his new life. The routine had helped by running him into the ground day after day as a manner of coping. But his day off left Zuko with nothing to occupy his mind. What had initially seemed like a welcome break now left him open to the demons that haunted the back of his thoughts.

He had to distract himself. But with what?

Memories of the Fire Festival came forth. It had been nice to be in the city and surrounded by people who welcomed him. Everybody had been so happy and carefree. Zuko wanted that again and perhaps he could find the girl he had met…but not today. He couldn't risk something as dangerous as sneaking into the city after speaking to the Fire Lord. Zuko had no doubt that his grandfather had eyes on him now and until he could figure out how to avoid such eyes, there was no point in sticking his feet where they shouldn't be.

Seeking out his sister and father were also out of the question. The Fire Lord had never forbidden it, but Zuko didn't feel like facing Azula and a part of him was afraid of his father's possible reaction. The young prince hadn't faced the man since the fateful day their family had an audience with the Fire Lord. And while a part of him ached to go back and hope everything would be as it used to be, Zuko had no particular desire to put his hopes to the test. Perhaps that made him a coward, but there was too much going on in the young prince's life for him to care. Not yet.

So that left Zuko with two choices: practice his firebending or get a head start on the assignments he had been given during his tutoring sessions. An easy enough pick, especially since the Firelord found particular fault with the former.

The courtyard his firebending lessons were normally held in had a low, square platform in the center of a grass field. At all four corners of the platform were large ceramic jars filled with sand that Zuko's teacher had requested. It was a testament to Zuko's poor bending that they were present. Only young children or those with poor control required sand in case of wayward flames. Zuko knew well enough how to stop his fire when he wished to; it was perhaps the one thing he had truly mastered. But it was difficult for him to practice his forms freely when he constantly worried about holding back his flames. It was shameful in many aspects, but Zuko took small comfort in knowing this was a private courtyard where only his teacher would ever watch him humiliate himself.

Contrary to what his skills might show, Zuko practiced his firebending every day without fail. Even on days when his mind was fit to burst from his tutoring sessions and his eyelids threatened to close of their own accord, he would find a way to make it to his practicing courtyard. Zuko reviewed all of the forms relentlessly because if he did not, mistakes would worm their way into his technique more insidiously than a cat-deer hunting its prey. It was frustrating when something he had spent hours on learning deteriorated so quickly and so counterproductively.

Zuko did not bother to go back to his quarters to change appropriately. He was restless and on-edge and he needed to just  _do_ something. So went directly to practice, ripping off the outer layers of his garments as he went and depositing them at the edge of the courtyard's grass field. Once he was standing upon the platform, Zuko took a deep breath and closed his eyes to feel the sun's rays upon his face.

He had always wondered why learning firebending came so poorly to him. If only his skills matched his love of the flame, then he would be unmatched. But clearly you could have one without the other. Zuko had always loved when he was alone, under no supervision, to just breathe and feel the fire within and around him. The sun shone particularly bright today with little of the characteristic sea breeze that normally tempered it and Zuko's awareness of Agni's gift to the world was proportionally elevated. It was hot of course, beads of sweat already beginning to form along his brow. But it was not uncomfortable; it was exhilarating to feel this much energy around him.

Gradually, he eased into his breathing exercises, taking care to keep his mind calm and his body relaxed. Zuko listened closely to his inner fire and felt it grow and shrink with each inhale and exhale. It was more than a miniature flame in his chest as some tutors had taken to calling it. Inner fire was everywhere, in every vein, and thrived deeper within himself than any physical scale could describe. It came surprisingly easy today despite his talk with the Firelord –

Zuko scowled, his rhythm suddenly off at the memory. What careful pace he had managed to find fell to the wayside, but he quickly resumed even breaths in an effort to salvage what he could. It took a few moments, but careful avoidance of any distressing thoughts returned him to his quiet concentration. Here, he couldn't focus on his worries and what lie in the future. Here, he was firebending and to think of anything else would be an insult to Agni.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Zuko began his basic forms. He took extreme to ensure nothing was out place, that all of his lines were perfect. It took all of his concentration and all of his very being to keep from slipping. And he felt it in his muscles as they strained from the effort. The form's movements were not particularly difficult to learn. Much of it could easily be taught in a day. But to have it mastered to the point of unthinking and instinct took many months and sometimes a few years. It was interspersed with the higher forms as one progressed in training, always necessary to practice to ensure all of the other techniques were refined. If one's basic forms slipped, it meant deterioration of all else as well.

Zuko had been taught several tiers of increasing difficulty once his firebending instructor had deemed his forms passable, but he had yet to learn everything well enough. More often than not, the basics alone took him an hour's work – something that took Azula only fifteen minutes of warm up. Zuko knew he performed them better alone, when there wasn't any pressure upon him to perform to standard. But he knew that was no excuse. What would happen when he was older and he would have to face the enemy one day in his country's name? He could not freeze and have poor form doom him then.

The young prince was almost finished with the set, struggling to keep his breaths even and mentally preparing for the next set, when he heard a slight shuffling to the right of the courtyard.

Zuko didn't stop, only swiftly turning to the source of the noise and pulling a knife from a holster tucked into his boot. His eyes focused upon the small forms upon the grass and his fingers tightened around his weapon in anticipation before his mind finally registered how small the figures were and how young their voices sounded.

"I told you not to push!" one of them shouted angrily. "Why did you push?"

"You were hogging up all of the space, idiot! How was I supposed to see anything?"

"You're both so dumb! Dumb, dumb, dummies!"

Zuko blinked in slight bewilderment at their exchange. It quickly became evident there weren't any assassins sent to murder him, but instead there were three kids who had stumbled into his practice courtyard. They all couldn't have been much older than seven or eight and their red robes indicated that they were probably the children of some nobility. They must have come from the second ring since the distinct lack of gold embroidery on their formal wear meant they had no tangible links to the royal family. Which then begged the question of how three kids made it into the highly patrolled and protected innermost ring without some of the imperial guards stopping them.

"Who are you?" the young prince asked, interrupting their growing panicked feud. "What are you doing here? How did you get here? Who has given you permission to be in the inner ring?"

All three boys quailed a little at the abrupt questioning. One of them, the tallest one with brown hair, took charge after a moment to answer, "We're sorry. We – we didn't mean to. It was an accident, we promise!"

Zuko struggled to hold in a sigh. That had answered none of the questions he had asked. "I'm sure it was an accident. But how did you get in here? It is protected at all hours."

Another one of the boys perked up at the question. "Well, our uncle –"

"Jun!" The tallest who had spoken earlier snapped. He was properly looking at Zuko now, and his eyes had finally found the tell-tale flame ornament that adorned the older boy's topknot. It was as if some switch had turned on in the boy's mind and he quickly fell to his knees. He gripped the other boys' arms to drag them down with him, pressing both of their heads down for good measure. "Forgive us, your highness. We didn't know where we were going. We'll be more careful from now on."

Zuko watched them bow and felt that distinct flicker of discomfort flutter in his stomach again. They shouldn't be bowing to him. He hadn't earned any of it. If anything, that boy who had taken charge was far more aware than Zuko himself had been at that age. He let out a sigh and tried to stand a little taller, look a little more confident. "I can forgive you for interrupting me. However, I must know how you got in. You probably understand that if you three could so easily break in, surely more dangerous people could get in too?"

The same boy spoke again. "It was luck, mostly. We know one of the guards here and he promised we could visit him for a little on shift to see what the inner ring's gates looked like. We decided to sneak inside when he wasn't looking."

That was concerning. From what another one of the boys had let slip earlier, said guard they knew was their uncle. While it was not abnormal to have children from the second ring visit, it was always with permission from the Firelord himself and the private quarters of the royal family were never open. Was the imperial guard becoming lax? What if a potential enemy found a way in like these kids had?

"What are your names?" At the request, the boy in charge paled and Zuko realized he probably thought they were all going to be punished. The young prince quickly added on, "I won't tell anybody about this. As long as you promise to leave here as fast as you can back to the second ring and never sneak in again."

The tallest of them quickly relaxed, his face visibly relieved. "My name is Wang Yan, your highness. And these are my younger brothers: Wang Jun and Wang Lei. We are honored to be in your presence."

Zuko personally did not know the names of the noble families very well. But his tutors had mentioned that he would have to learn all of them eventually and their relations to the crown. Perhaps this was his first step to such a task.

"I am Prince Zuko." He offered no mention of equal pleasure in meeting the boys. Meeting somebody of his stature, he had been taught, should always be an honor. But for him to meet others of lower stature was merely an obligation and therefore warranted no returning sentiment. It made Zuko uncomfortable and the words – or lack thereof – made it through his mouth with some difficulty.

The three boys, however, seemingly felt none such discomfort and accepted his introduction with another low bow. "Thank you for your generosity, Prince Zuko," Yan said. "We owe you a debt."

Something about those formal words hung in the air, like a promise that too tangible form. But the feeling passed as quickly as it had come and the young prince was left wondering if he had imagined it. Zuko shook his head a little to clear it and motioned for the boys to rise. They obeyed instantly and with only a slight backwards (awed?) look from Jun and Lei, the three were back out of the courtyard as if they had never been there.

Zuko looked at where they were kneeling a moment ago before a slight grin touched his lips. Maybe he had been unable to leave the inner ring like he had wanted to today. But it seemed it hadn't mattered. The outside world had come to  _him_  by Agni's sheer luck. And maybe, just maybe, Zuko would run into those boys again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you guys! I know it has been a while - to say the least. And I cannot guarantee that I will update this regularly. But this and another one of my stories is always on my mind and I always toy with various ideas. Between the two stories I'm invested in right now, this one has less structure in my mind, but lots of random thoughts and ideas over the years have accumulated enough for me to feel a pressing need to at least try to continue this for as long as possible.
> 
> With that, I just want to thank you for still reading and supporting. I do have a lot of fun writing when I have the time and I must ask you to forgive me for any grammatical errors or anything of that sort since I edit very sparingly.
> 
> Till next time!


	10. Part 1: Covert Assignments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued (i.e. Avatar the Last Airbender).

**Part 1: Covert Assignments**

Quiang had always been a straightforward man. From the time he was a child, he had never been one to step out of line or push the boundaries of any limits that had been placed upon him. His parents had more often worried about his elder brother, Chanming. It was not necessarily because Chanming was a troublemaker, but because he seemed rebellious in comparison to his more reticent younger brother.

Chanming was settled now though, far too busy with his family and his inherited position in court to get into any sort of mischief. What small amount of childlike recklessness Quiang had seen before had quickly fallen to the wayside once Chanming married his beloved Ruolan. They made a fine couple and balanced each other like few others could. They were partners in more ways than one and Quiang hoped to have the same relationship with his own (currently nonexistent) wife someday.

As a second child though, Quiang had more on his mind and had much to do before he could establish his own home like his brother. Chanming had been heir to their family's title and wealth since birth because he was firstborn. It was, by all means, practical in the sense that he would not have to be consumed with climbing a ladder their forefathers had already fought to ascend. By not dividing the wealth in half to two sons, all of the resources could be poured into the eldest so that he may step forward and continue elevating the family name.

Perhaps early on in his youth, Quiang had resented such a thing. But such resentment had been fleeting. Even though he would have to start from scratch, at least he had the freedom to choose what path he would take. It was clear to Quiang that his brother often felt the burden of so many expectations placed upon him and that worry upon Chanming's brow convinced Quiang fairly quickly that each of them had their own challenges to assume. And their case was in no way special; all Fire Nation families of noble descent bequeathed the titles and wealth to their eldest and had many branch families as a result.

The Wang Family was not necessarily of incredible prestige. They had started as common traders until one of their ancestors had pleased the Fire Lord, earning a title and placement in the second ring as reward. To this day, their trader roots remained with them but their initial low status had not. Now, to put things simply, they were middle tier and formidable enough for other families to hesitate when crossing them.

Quiang was proud of his family heritage, proud to know that his family had truly worked for where they were now and was determined to contribute as much as he could. He might not be able to serve in court like his brother, but he had enlisted in the nation's army the moment he had become old enough to do so. Nobody in the Wang family had yet to procure martial prestige and it was thanks to this missing gap in their reputation that prevented them from mingling with the highest of nobility. Quiang believed that if he could attain recognition in the military – enough to catch the attention of some generals or maybe even Prince Iroh himself – then he could truly add that extra push of influence his family needed to grow.

He had worked hard for it. So hard, that he barely made it to the birth of his nephews and rarely found the time to visit home. Quiang was abroad for a while, slowly distinguishing himself until one day his commanding officer had pulled him aside to tell Quiang that he was offered a position in the home guard. And not just any home guard, but the Royal Guard.

It had been the highest honor. Only the best were chosen to protect the Fire Nation's capital where the country's most revered figure and his family resided. Members of the Royal Guard were known to come from all backgrounds and the only constants among them all were their undying loyalty to the Fire Nation and their excellent training. It was a testament to how highly Quiang's commanding officer thought of him to recommend him as a candidate in the first place. Never in Quiang's entire life had he felt as proud as he had then.

But that had brought a problem to his plans. Quiang had originally thought to excel in the leadership among the front lines of the war. It was there where war heroes were made and had their names etched upon plaques and festivals thrown in their honor. While the Royal Guard was a guaranteed prestigious position and would afford wealth and recognition, it would never be as grand as becoming a known general in the war. Being part of the Royal Guard was an honor that often left its members living in the shadows.

Quiang had been fully prepared to turn down the offer, to thank his commanding officer but politely refuse so that he could someday bring his family name the greatest of prestige. But when he received a message from his sister-in-law explaining that his brother had almost been assassinated, Quiang knew where he was most needed.

So he returned home after four years of deployment and became a part of the Royal Guard, at first manning the outer ring and dealing with regular daily squabbles before making his way to a guard of the innermost wall.

Ruolan had been both ecstatic and relieved to have him back. Quiang knew that this had partially been due to her genuine happiness at her brother-in-law's return; she had always been a kind soul. But he also knew that she had been relieved to have another person looking out for Chanming.

Politics, it seemed, was quite possibly as dangerous as fighting in the nation's army.

Chanming had been sorry at first, because he of all people had known how much Quiang had wanted to accomplish more beyond the lands of the Fire Nation. So much so that he tried to distance himself from his brother as much as possible. That is, until Quiang had quite literally cornered Chanming one night to angrily inform him that while becoming a war hero was grand, he was more concerned with making sure his family actually remained alive. Chanming was a master of words, but he had not been trained as Quiang had been in the army. So if sticking around to make sure that at least no physical harm came to his elder brother, than Quiang was more than happy to be back home. After that, Chanming had relented and it was as if nothing had changed in their four years apart.

There were many perks to being home. The food was considerably better than what the army provided and he had the same place to always return to at the end of the day. Seeing his three nephews, so much larger now, was another one of those perks. They had vague memories of him, a lot of it muddled since Quiang had not been back for so long. But they were still young yet and all three were excited to have their uncle home to play with, especially since he was a "super cool guard of the Firelord". They were such treasures to him now. Quiang hadn't had the time before to truly get to know them and he had been too focused upon his goal. But now that he was dead set upon making sure his brother and his family were safe, he could finally see how much he had missed.

They were all so intelligent, different mixes of both Chanming and Ruolan. Lei, the youngest, was much more rambunctious than either his father or his uncle had ever been, taking after his mother in temperament. He never hesitated to take his brothers' challenges head on despite being the smallest and least experienced. Jun, the middle child, was less confrontational but no less excitatory. He was eager to please and perhaps the most trusting of the three and took after his father in appearance.

Yan, the eldest, was the most introspective and aware of what occurred around him. It was, perhaps, a result of his age and greater maturity. But he protected his brothers fiercely and took his studies with ferocious seriousness. He was not without his episodes of expected childishness, but it seemed that he was hyperaware. More than once, Yan had let it slip that while he was happy to have Quiang back, he knew that there was a greater reason why.

Quiang did not fault his brother from shielding his children from the truth; none of the three knew that their father had nearly been killed. But at the same time, he wished that they were made aware of the dangers and taught how to defend themselves accordingly. They had firebending lessons of course, all three could firebend just as their mother and father could. But such lessons were nowhere near the caliber that Quiang would have liked. Perhaps it was his soldier's training speaking, but Quiang thought it would be better to be prepared than not.

So he took it upon himself to teach them. He could not do so consistently since he was still a member of the Royal Guard after all. But he thought it could not hurt to show them a few techniques that could mean the difference between life and death.

The brothers were always excited to have lessons with him. They all believed Quiang to be some sort of all-powerful bender because of his position. And while Quiang could say that he was certainly good enough to be a part of the Royal Guard, he knew better than to think he was the best. There were many in higher positions who could probably have him on the ground in a heartbeat. Still, it was nice to see such innocent happiness in their eyes when they saw him and Quiang allowed them a little of their awe. It would wear off soon enough and he reminded them occasionally that there were other better benders than himself.

Maybe being at home after so many months had gradually worn down his trained cautiousness, because one day Quiang finally gave into Lei's pleads to allow them a "teensy little" look into his job as a royal guard. The youngest had been begging for such a chance for weeks and back then, Quiang had still been adjusting to his position. But now that he was accustomed to his tasks and on relatively good terms with his fellow guards, he could not see what the harm would be. It would not be necessarily breaking any regulations and he would be showing them only the most superficial aspects of the inner wall during one of his rare days off. Quiang had even gotten permission from his superior so long as he made sure the children did not enter anywhere unsanctioned, did not bother the guards on shift, or did not actually enter the inner ring. It was a rare opportunity and one Quiang felt like he would not have received had he asked any sooner, if he were not on the commanding guard's good side, or if his family were of any lower standing. As it were, Quiang seemed to have a knack for pleasing those in higher positions and the Wang family was one growing in prestige.

It had all seemed simple enough. Straightforward and uncomplicated just like Quiang had always liked it.

Until, of course, he lost track of all three of his nephews.

Quiang's anxiety didn't disappear when he found them again, barely fifteen minutes later. Fifteen minutes did not sound like much. But fifteen minutes where they could be found where they shouldn't be and perhaps executed for threatening the safety of the royal family in the inner ring had stretched like an eternity for him. Oh, how his brother would be furious at him for allowing the children to get the slip on a trained soldier like himself. Quiang felt mortified that he had become so lax as to have this happen at all.

Things only got worse later that evening when he told Chanming what had happened. Quiang had not wanted to tell his brother, but honor and duty dictated that it would be near-betrayal to hide something so significant from the head of the household. Very rarely did Quiang ever see his elder brother angry at him, but this had certainly been one of those times. And the royal guardsman knew he had deserved it, so he swore to never let it happen again and swore to his brother that he would rather die than see his nephews come to harm.

Chanming was even more severe when it came time to speak to his children about it. He had lashed them with his tongue, demanding how they could possibly think it would be a good idea to sneak into the inner ring. Ruolan even contributed her fair share until finally, Lei burst into tears at how sorry he was and how it was his fault and how he had been the first to race off into the inner ring. Lei had just wanted to know what it looked like where the royal family lived, he explained, and Jun had followed because he was curious too.

Jun did not deny his younger brother's confession; he had only stood teary eyed and in silence. Yan was more composed, but his lips were drawn thin. When silence had finally pervaded the room where they all sat, the eldest of Chanming's children raised his eyes and looked at his father with a touch of finality that Quiang had seen in soldiers about to reveal grave news.

"Father, Mother, Uncle," Yan had said formally, always so aware of how best to address those around him. "I accept the blame for what has happened. As the eldest, it was my responsibility to stop Lei and Jun. But there is something else you must know."

"But Yan – !" Lei had exclaimed in panic, something that made alarm bells ring in Quiang's mind. He had never seen his youngest nephew so worried before.

Yan had shaken his head. "This is something we can't handle ourselves." He turned to them all. "Father, Mother, Uncle, when we went into the inner ring, we were caught by Prince Zuko."

That had only caused Chanming and Ruolan to explode into a new flurry of worried and furious questioning. Quiang himself had gone cold at the admission. Of all the people his nephews had run into, it had been a member of the immediate royal family. The very highest of the entire Fire Nation hierarchy. It was a miracle that they had even made it out alive.

From what the children had said, Prince Zuko had let them go – with absolutely no strings attached. It was something none of the older occupants of the room believed. To enter the inner ring without permission was punishable by death. And for a member of the royal family to have brushed it off so simply was something only the naïve would believe. It relieved Quiang to see that Yan had the foresight to speak to his parents about the situation, but this was something that could damage their entire family. For this alone, they could all be punished by the Fire Lord himself.

In the end, the children had been sent to their rooms with the notice that they would be homebound from the Royal Fire Academy for the next week as punishment and that any activities outside of their studies were to be withheld for the next two months. Quiang was going to hate seeing them miserable for so long, but he had known it was necessary. From another's point of view, it had almost been a lenient punishment.

Quiang had tried to come to a solution with his brother and sister-in-law in the days following, all three of them contemplating actions like outright begging for mercy from the Fire Lord to sending the boys away to one of the colonies. But they had quickly realized any such extreme solutions would only aggravate the situation. In the end, no action at all had seemed to be the best decision.

Chanming noticed no change amongst the court in the weeks following. He stated that if anybody knew of upcoming punishment for the Wang family, they did not reveal it. It was more likely, he admitted, that Quiang would probably be the first to know if there would be repercussions for the boys' actions. After all, it had been Quiang's duty to ensure their visit would go unhindered and there was a high possibility he would be the first to be removed.

For the longest time, or at least what seemed like the longest time to Quiang, nothing happened. He went to his position as a royal guard every day with his heart beating in his chest, fully prepared for arrest by his own comrades. But each day passed like any other and upon the end of the second month after the incident, Quiang began to wonder if anything would actually happen at all.

Of course, it was then announced that Prince Zuko would be visiting the inner wall. The Command Sergeant Major spoke to them directly the morning it was to happen, informing them that the prince would be coming in a few hours as part of his education and that they were to be on their best behavior. In the capital right now, Prince Zuko was second only to the Fire Lord and any step out of line would most likely be reported. They could not slip up.

Needless to say, Quiang felt his stomach drop at the news and it took every fiber of his being to resist leaving his post to warn his family that they were finally being targeted. This was it. But Quiang knew that it would be better to take the punishment here, handle the brunt of it and perhaps then his brother's family might have a chance of redemption…or escape. This was why he had come home from the front lines, so that he could protect his family from whatever dangers they might face.

It was midday when the prince finally approached Quiang's post along a distant portion of the wall. He wasn't alone from what Quiang could see. An older man, wearing the robes of one of the palace's most venerated scholars, was leading Prince Zuko and speaking in low tones. Quiang hadn't known what to expect from the boy prince. Despite being a member of the Royal Guard, Quiang had yet to achieve high enough status to actually guard the royal family and see for himself.

From the rumors, Prince Zuko was supposed to be a disappointment. Before his sudden unexplained (but highly gossiped about) elevation to second in line for the throne, the young prince had been known to be the lesser of Prince Ozai's children. Quiang was not quite updated on the rumors since he himself had been away from the capital for years. But even he could vaguely remember hearing about how the boy was barely a firebender and a poor student on top of it all. Why he was suddenly one of the most powerful and influential figures in the Fire Nation baffled almost everybody. But Quiang knew better than to rely so heavily on gossip spread within the capital.

From what he could see, the first thing that stood out about Prince Zuko was his youth. The prince reminded Quiang of his nephews – painfully so. Not because they looked alike in any way, but because the prince was a child who still looked at his surroundings with a distinct curiosity. The rumors might have said the boy was a talentless learner, but the way his golden eyes followed what his teacher was pointing out belied a different truth. The prince's face was fully concentrated on what he was listening to and there seemed to be a genuine interest in the way he observed his surroundings.

The prince appeared so unassuming, just a student taking a tour with his private instructor. Hardly the sort of figure one would expect from somebody second in line for the throne. It was a little odd to think that royalty of such standing could be anything less than a figure straight from legend.

Still, Prince Zuko's presence sent Quiang's heart racing. There was the very real and likely chance that the prince had paid no heed to his promise to Yan, Jun, and Lei about staying silent. Realistically, the boy had spoken about it immediately to try and fix the breach. But the issue could have been solved very easily by having Quiang arrested. Everybody knew about his three nephews, so Quiang wouldn't have been hard to pinpoint. Why bother showing up in person and under the pretense of studious purposes?

The royal guard had little more time for his thoughts, however, as both prince and tutor finally came to face him. Almost immediately, Prince Zuko's eyes sharpened upon seeing Quiang and his next few words solidified the guard's conviction of his impending doom:

"Staff Sergeant Wang? I'd like to have a private word."

~0~

Zuko was not used to giving orders and having them followed quite yet. In fact, the very thought of speaking and being followed was…odd. At best. Before, as a second prince's son, he had been afforded the position but never the true authority to ask for – no, demand – anything. But things were different now. As son of the Crown Prince, he was to be obeyed almost as faithfully as one did the Fire Lord. It was something his tutors had been trying to impress upon him for weeks now because one of the first things they had realized about Zuko was that he never  _ordered_  anything.

That hadn't been because he lacked training. Zuko had plenty of it. He knew countless rituals and formalities required of a member of the royal family and he had been trained how to treat those of subordinate position for years. Those were some of the few lessons he actually remembered because his father (or past father, officially) had thought it important. Nothing was more important to Prince Ozai than ensuring his children, lacking in firebending ability or not, knew their place in order to avoid bringing shame upon the family.

Zuko's instructors assigned by the Fire Lord had picked up on that fairly quickly and had swiftly decided the best course of action was to repeatedly inform the young prince that he should not hold back so severely. He was too accommodating, they said. Too soft for a future Crown Prince. People would one day look to him for direction and when that time came, he could not be so yielding.

Zuko himself realized that perhaps they were asking for an Azula. She had no qualms about asserting her authority. He saw it every day in the way she would demand servants do her bidding and even wither nobles who were unfortunate enough to cross her path. But while Zuko could envision what his tutors expected, he could not see himself actually doing such things.

That is, until his dilemma with the Wang brothers cropped up. Zuko had no intention of telling anybody in the palace that three boys had snuck inside. But he was concerned about the state of the Royal Guard. How was he supposed to make sure that the capital's protectors were not compromised while simultaneously maintaining his promise to the three noble children he had met? Zuko had discarded many solutions – most of which were crazy to begin with – and had settled upon one thing for sure: he would have to handle this himself to be sure of the brothers' secrecy.

When Zuko's history teacher had begun lecturing on the capital and its Royal Guard, the young prince had known his chance had arrived. Very carefully, he suggested a visit to the inner wall as a more visual and relevant way to learn the topic. It was a little out of character for him, since Zuko typically never deviated from his instructor's teaching plans. But the scholar had been accepting and even excited at his pupil's sudden interest and had planned a visit to the inner wall within two months' time.

In all honesty, Zuko had to admit he didn't exactly have a plan. He figured that once he actually had access to the guards and the inner wall, he could more carefully decide what to do. On a normal day, he was technically allowed to visit anywhere he wished so long as he did not pass the walls. But it would have been strange of Zuko to do so since he had never approached the wall on his own before. This way, he had an excuse so that he wouldn't arouse any suspicion.

Learning exactly which guard was the Wang brothers' uncle had been the greater challenge. It would have been simplest to walk up to the Royal Guard's headquarters posted within the palace and ask for the roster of soldiers. But that would have also raised alarms Zuko didn't want to raise. Asking random guards for a certain Wang soldier had also been out of the question since that would have been just as, if not more eyebrow-raising. In the end, Zuko had resorted to basic observation.

Since his visit out of the inner walls to the Fire Festival, Zuko had been practicing ways to evade the royal guards. It was a slow undertaking, one he did in the same nondescript black clothing he had worn to the Fire Festival and only after he was supposedly asleep. Some days, Zuko found himself too exhausted from the day to even practice. But in the evenings he was not bone-tired from his schedule, he would pull on the black cloth and wander the inner ring.

So far, Zuko had been able to discern that the guards shifted in random intervals. The security of the royal palace was unmatched and in order to prevent any outsider from taking advantage of routine shift switches, the Royal Guard scheduled its changes at odd times. Zuko also found that they had almost no blind spots where they kept watch – the key word being  _almost_. To somebody who lacked any deep familiarity with the palace, it would seem like the guard had no weak point. But for a prince who had lived his entire life in the inner ring, finding the one loophole had been possible. It hadn't been easy, but Zuko eventually found a small stretch behind the gardens of the southwest wing where some fire lily bushes provided cover if left untrimmed. The gardener in charge of that particular garden had a tendency to skip every third day of trimming probably because he seemed to suffer from weakening bones in his older age. But skipping that one day was enough to have the bushes large enough for somebody of Zuko's size to make it as far as the wall itself.

Scaling the wall, however, would be a different story that Zuko would contemplate at a later time. Just  _reaching_  the wall had been a major success for him. Initially, the young prince had been nearly caught wandering the palace halls and once he had mastered the palace halls, he had to learn evasion in the more densely secured gardens and pavilions where the royal guard more freely roamed. Since he could not rely on schedule and habit to give him any openings, Zuko had been forced to learn how to step lightly, move quickly, and follow each guard's every subtle shift to predict where they would turn next. It was a practice far easier said than done and he had actually been caught more than once. After his third time being spotted in the evenings, however, Zuko took to practicing his evasion of the guards during the day when he could more easily explain his presence in certain parts of the palace.

Practicing during the day had been harder with his heavier boots and the lack of shadows denying Zuko his many hiding places. But once he could actually avoid the guards' notice fairly well in the daylight, he finally dared to start again in the evening. His efforts had been met with greater success, then, and it had taken about a week more to actually find the fire lily bush loophole.

In the end, it shouldn't have surprised Zuko that his undertaking had eaten away the better part of the two-month time limit his history tutor had unknowingly imposed when he had planned the wall visit. Far longer than Zuko had wished. But then again, when had anything come to him easily? Even now, his skill in stealth was nowhere near polished. His ability to avoid the royal guards were shaky at best and just the prospect of heading out at night to wander about shiftily made him uneasy. Uneasy yet oddly excited.

Sheer luck – as rare as it was in Zuko's life – ended up handing Zuko his answer about the Wang uncle he was searching for. Throughout his nightly escapades, he had endeavored to hear about or even stumble across the royal guard during shift changes when the guards would speak briefly with each other. He could reason that the man was probably stationed along the wall itself since there was no way the children could have gotten in otherwise. But where along the wall had been the question. The inner wall, despite being the smallest of the four, encompassed the entirety of the royal palace. Yet just a week after Zuko had finally found a way to get close to the wall without being seen, he overheard one of the guards requesting a change in shift with a certain Staff Sergeant Wang at the Royal Guard central quarters.

In hindsight, it would have been easier to hang about the headquarters to hear helpful information than it would have been to stay up in the dead of night to  _maybe_  stumble across the guard. Zuko had thought he would not hear much from the central quarters and his lingering presence would have been questionable. But his venture into palace sneaking hadn't brought forth anything particularly fruitful either and left Zuko wondering if in the future he could find more efficient ways of gathering information without suspicion.

Another question for another time. Armed with the information he had heard, Zuko prepared himself for the talk he would be having with the Wang uncle he had been searching for.

The tour was actually interesting, Zuko found to his pleasant surprise. It was something Zuko could see visually and he made careful note of his tutor's words as they slowly made their way around the main gate and towards the farther stretches of the wall. What interested him most was the actual selection for the Royal Guard – chosen from the best – and how their career paths often placed them higher towards the Fire Lord's personal guard or even the personal guard of the Crown Prince. Zuko himself, he was surprised to learn, was eligible to choose his own personal guards once he came of age since he was so close in line to the throne. More uncomfortable to learn was that the Fire Lord or Uncle Iroh (Father, now) was responsible for choosing his current guard since he was underage. Zuko had voiced his surprise at that, saying he had not seen any guard around him except for the regular duty. But then his tutor had shrugged and said that was, perhaps, the entire point.

Yet more information to digest and work with at a later time. Zuko tried not to panic in the meantime at the prospect that his nightly escapades were not so secret as he thought they were.

In the end, Zuko's attention had quickly focused once they pulled up to the position he had heard the Wang guard would be stationed at and he gathered enough courage to say, "Staff Sergeant Wang? I'd like to have a private word."

The young prince could only hope that his nerves didn't show. He had summoned all the authority and stature he could bring forth despite being noticeably shorter than everybody currently around him. This was something he had to be adamant in, if he wanted this to work out the way he wanted to. Zuko wasn't used to this show of power – power he felt he hadn't earned yet – but he could pray that years of training would actually finally pay off.

Zuko saw the confusion in his teacher's face from the corner of his eye and quickly added, "I only want to ask you about your experience as a royal guard." It was enough to have the elderly scholar settle and allow his prince's instruction. After all, wasn't this sort of demand what Zuko's tutors had been trying to enforce for a while now?

Staff Sergeant Wang had indicated no emotion at all, only inclining his head and following dutifully. A royal guard had no place refusing a royal prince's request.

The prince and guard walked a little way from the wall, enough to be visible but far enough to avoid being heard so long as they kept their voices relatively low. Once Zuko deemed the distance adequate, he paused and turned to face the man he'd worked so hard to find.

The royal guards manning the inner wall wore no mask that was typical of most soldiers. The face Zuko now saw framed by a helmet was strong, the brown eyes giving nothing away. Staff Sergeant Wang was perhaps bordering on middle-aged, but had probably been talented enough to gain promotion early on to be where he was now. This was a man who had more experience in the field than Zuko had seen years alive and the young prince respected that.

"Staff Sergeant Wang. I pulled you here for a little more than a few questions."

It was the smallest of shifts, but Zuko had made a sort of art in reading body movement after living with Azula for so long. What he had just said made the guard uncomfortable.

"Permission to speak, Staff Sergeant," Zuko relented, falling back on the formalities he knew like the back of his hand even if his stomach knotted uncomfortably. "Permission to speak freely."

The man hesitated briefly, before he began, "My prince, I know why you are here and before you punish my nephews, as is your right, I must humbly beg for your mercy." To Zuko's horror, the man was suddenly on his knees and bowing. "I take full responsibility. It was my lapse in attention that allowed them to wander and whatever judgment you give I will bear it willingly."

Well, if Zuko had been unsure whether the boys had told their family about what had happened, he wasn't now. He had figured they would tell their family first. He certainly would have. But there was also the small chance that they had kept to themselves in an effort to avoid punishment. From what Zuko could recall, Jun and Lei might have tried to get away with it. But Yan had seemed too level headed to do anything less than confess.

Zuko wasn't a fool. He knew what the laws demanded in cases like this. He should have reported everything so that such breaches in security could be more solidly rectified. But the young prince knew it had all been a mistake and he was tired of seeing people around him punished. Those boys had been nothing more than kids and to have another family torn apart for something like that…Zuko couldn't find it in him to allow such a thing to happen.

So here he was, facing a man who was prostrating himself before a boy who had been nothing more than a son of a second prince a few months ago. How quickly and drastically things had changed. Zuko wouldn't have dared to do this before, not with his mother being a constant presence and his father, Prince Ozai, there to make sure this lapse wouldn't happen at all. The young prince had found that now, outside of his rigid schedule set by the Fire Lord, he was relatively free of any obvious supervision. Before, either his sister or his mother would be around to notice any extra undertakings he could get into. But now, nobody impeded on his unscheduled time because he had so little of it and even fewer dared to dictate what he could or could not do. It afforded him a degree of unconventional freedom Zuko would not have predicted.

Still, he felt a touch of guilt because this would be his first time making so important a decision independently. Zuko should have logically walked this through with somebody, gotten some advice on how he should be handling something as large as a breach in palace security. But he technically had no obligation to report to anybody except for the Fire Lord now. And not having to face Prince Ozai, Father, at the end of the day made this that much easier. Zuko could ultimately do as he wished and he hoped that what he was about to do wouldn't be a mistake.

The young prince took a deep breath and said, "I have decided on your punishment. But I have one more question. I have heard that the Guard has the best the military has to offer. Is this true? Or is your slip common?"

"None of the fault lies with the Royal Guard, Prince Zuko. It was my fault and mine alone. I am weak, but the Royal Guard is loyal and dedicated to your family."

One man's word was not enough to ensure that, Zuko knew. But he continued, "I believe you, Staff Sergeant Wang. So here is my punishment: you report everything to me from now on. Once a week. Don't let anything else distract you from your duty and if anything especially noticeable appears, you must tell me at once."

It didn't surprise Zuko when the guard looked up at him, incredulously murmuring, "My prince?" This was an almost ridiculous degree of leniency.

"I don't want other guards to know this is happening. Report to me in writing so that I can be sure the Royal Guard is at its best." Zuko knew he was probably blasting through dozens of palace regulations at this point, but he kept going. "I will have a messenger pick up your reports."

This was the only way Zuko could come up with that would allow the Wang brothers and the Wang guard to go relatively free. The Staff Sergeant would be punished as required, but at least their family would not receive public shame or anything worse. This would give Zuko some degree of reassurance that this was nothing more than an accident and remind the man kneeling before him that his job could not be compromised.

Somehow, the young prince couldn't help but think his tutors might have meant something a little different when they suggested he learn to wear his position with better authority.

The Staff Sergeant still had a look of slight shock on his face, but he dutifully bowed his head once against and replied, "I will take my punishment as my prince commands. Thank you for your mercy, your highness."

Zuko shook his head and sighed. He still wasn't sure if what he was doing here was right. "Rise, Staff Sergeant. We don't want people to think anything important is happening."

"Of course not, my prince. Should anyone ask, I am merely formally greeting a member of the royal family." Bowing before the royal family was no foreign concept, but falling to one's knees was a little extreme in this setting. Still, Zuko figured the excuse would work and it was too late to go back now.

As prince and guard made their way back to the wall, Zuko felt the finality of his decision weigh upon him. This was actually happening and the he was already feeling the tension of keeping his image as prince getting to him. Here he was, second in line to the throne and his first official order was to have a royal guardsman secretly give information, undermining an entire hierarchy of officers and generals in the process. And as ridiculous as this seemed, Zuko knew that all of this was within his right. He was supposed to someday be the greatest voice of authority in the nation. He had to become used to this and at least in this way, he had also managed to save one family.

He had given both uncle and nephews another chance and perhaps that alone was worth it.

~0~

Over the last two months since Zuko's conversation with his grandfather over turtleducks, they had both shared every dinner together without fail. Each time, the young prince was forced to exchange at least a few words with the Fire Lord because the elder man devoted the entire half hour meal to his grandson. How his grandfather managed to both finish dinner and conduct discussion at the same time was beyond Zuko. But the young prince quickly learned to do the same over the weeks out of pure necessity.

At first, the conversation had been painfully awkward for Zuko. He wasn't used to being asked how his day was or how he felt on certain topics. The young prince would answer quickly in hopes of spending the rest of the meal in peace. But when Zuko only answered "fine" or "yes/no" for any question, the Fire Lord immediately followed up the answer with a request for greater clarification or detail. He quickly learned that the only answer his grandfather liked was when Zuko went and explained exactly what he thought of General Gong's method of tracking insurgents in the war or how he felt about the efficacy of the ceramic distribution amongst the Earth Kingdom colonies.

The switch from eleven years of practiced silence during family dinners to this open arena of opinions baffled Zuko. Many times, the young prince feared that he had said something out of line or lacking in intelligence. But in those moments, the Fire Lord never once shot down Zuko's words for anything less than worthy of consideration. His grandfather might offer opposing thoughts or assign whatever Zuko might not have fully understood for his tutors to go over the next day, but never once did the young prince see his words discarded without thought.

It did nothing to help Zuko clarify his feelings. More often than he liked to admit, he actually enjoyed saying what was on his mind. But for every moment of warmth he felt in his chest at his grandfather's attention, Zuko also felt a stab of guilt knowing his father and Azula were alone while he spoke with his grandfather as if there was nothing wrong. One did not refuse the Fire Lord his wishes though, so Zuko soon found himself uneasily settling into this new normal despite his many misgivings. It was a dangerously easy normal to slip into and the young prince knew it. But some deep, selfish part of him felt like he had finally found a place within the palace - at the price of his family's stability.

Zuko tried not to think about what that said about him as a person. What monster could enjoy everything around him at such a price?

It was probably the spirits' punishment for his self-indulgence that left Zuko still struggling with his firebending. In all other aspects of his life, the young prince was improving adequately. But in what was arguably the most important ability Zuko possessed, he continued to disappoint even under the Fire Lord's own watchful eye twice a week.

The nation's ruler was, incredibly (or not so incredibly), a patient teacher. Even after many sessions of failed attempts to improve Zuko's slow progress, the man did not slip into shouts. It was yet another aspect of his grandfather the prince struggled to understand, but he was hardly about to argue against it. In fact, Zuko almost preferred his time with the Fire Lord over his time with his traditional firebending instructor because at least then, he didn't get a verbal lashing.

It took about eight lessons before Zuko could relax enough around his grandfather to maintain strict control over his inner fire. It took another four more before the young prince completed his basic forms through once without any significant mistakes. That alone was something Zuko had never been able to do in front of his father and it shamed him to realize that he was actually more calm and comfortable around the man who had torn his family apart than the man who had raised him. Maintaining his composure around the Fire Lord was a feat for Zuko, but it was a paltry one when so much more was expected of a Crown Prince's son. Fire Lord Azulon never voiced it, but Zuko knew it was the unsaid elephant-mandrill in the room.

In their latest lessons, Zuko merely worked on refining the forms he did know with his grandfather. It was not easy work because although the Fire Lord was not one for impatience, he was certainly a taskmaster of another level. It was expected, Zuko supposed, of the most powerful firebender in the world. Every single one of their sessions went non-stop and by the end of it, the young prince was always physically spent. It was hard work without the verbal lectures Zuko was used to and the results of it began to show – ever so slowly – in his forms.

Still, it was not good enough and they both knew it.

Which was probably why, during dinner on the very same day Zuko had visited the inner wall, the Fire Lord took their customary discussion in a different direction.

"Zuko," the elder man began thoughtfully as his grandson finished explaining how he had learned about the structure of the Royal Guard. "Your studies have been acceptable and I am pleased that you took initiative today in your learning. I understand your tutors have also been teaching you the finer details of our colonies and outer regions of jurisdiction. I would like to know, however, how comfortable you are with the Court here in the palace?"

The young prince blinked, little blindsided by the question. He was learning about the Court of course. The Court was the entirety of the nobles living in the second ring who would deliberate upon the nation's many laws and actions. The Fire Lord had final word in all things, but the Court offered advice and a finer touch of control the nation's ruler could not do alone. The nobles in the second ring spoke on behalf of the nobility living in and keeping watch over the Fire Nation's lands and it was meant to be a system that took many perspectives into consideration. It was a new subject for Zuko, despite having some exposure to it since childhood and he said so in reply.

The Fire Lord nodded, seemingly expecting the answer. "One does not truly know how the Court works until one has served within it. It is a system in and of itself that all princes are required to know. Lessons about it are very well and good, but I know that you learn best from experience, Zuko."

"My lord?"

"I would like for you to get to know the Court on a more involved level. You are young yet, but it is never too early to begin. Children of nobility begin learning their family's craft from the moment they learn to walk. You are a prince, Zuko, but it is always a good idea to know how extensions of our family's power work. The Court could just as easily be your greatest obstacle as it is your greatest asset in the future."

Zuko wasn't quite sure how the Court could possibly be an obstacle when its entire purpose was service to the Fire Lord, but he was not about to interrupt his grandfather. "I have already begun to arrange your placement," the elder man was saying. "You will serve as a scribe to one of the Lords a few times a week in addition to your classes. If I could, I would have one of them take you as an apprentice, but it has always been tradition for only the eldest son to learn. It is unfortunate, but I do not wish to unsettle the Court any more than I must. This is the best position I will be able to provide for your education."

"My lord," Zuko tentatively frowned, his mind trying to consolidate everything his grandfather was suddenly saying. "Wouldn't the Lords be uncomfortable with… _me_  being a scribe?"

"State your concerns clearly for me, Zuko. There is no point in being delicate with your wording in front of me."

Every fiber of Zuko's upbringing recoiled, but he dutifully replied, "How would I be able to observe the Court if they know I am scribing? Wouldn't they just change the way they act around me?"

"Then make sure they do not learn who you are, child. I will make sure the manner with which you become scribe remains free of question."

Zuko simply looked at his grandfather for a moment before he fully digested what the Fire Lord wanted. For a man who demanded his grandson speak directly, Fire Lord Azulon certainly knew how to beat around the fire bush. A part of Zuko idly wondered if unstated, unofficial commands were going to become a common thing in his life as a prince.

It seemed that the elder man knew when the proverbial candle lit in Zuko's mind and he allowed a small smile to touch his lips. The Fire Lord delicately placed his chopsticks down as he finished the last of his meal and leaned back from the table, an indicator that dinner was over and so was their discussion.

"I am sure you will find the experience enlightening, Zuko. I look forward to hearing about it."

~0~

Mai met Ty Lee when they were seven, during their first year at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. They were about as opposite in personality as any two could be and just one look at the bubbly, energetic girl and her six identical sisters made Mai want to hurl a little. There was no way her parents could possibly approve of such forward lack of restraint. Mai's own mother would have punished them for speaking out of turn and refusing to maintain proper manners as expected of future noblewomen. Ty Lee was the complete antithesis of Mai's entire outlook on life. In all probable situations, they wouldn't have spoken to each other at all if it hadn't been for one person:

Azula.

Azula was somebody everybody had been drawn to within the first day of classes. She was a daughter one of the Fire Nation's two princes, after all. She might never inherit the throne, but members of the royal family carried influence few others could match. Azula was like a light in a crowd of fly-moths and she knew it. She could have the entire class doing extra schoolwork for her voluntarily from charisma alone and still score at the top of their year. She could outrun even the fastest of the girls…three years older. She could have the teachers wound about her finger like puppets on a string. She could outdo anybody and everybody without a hair out of place and it was clear from the very beginning that Azula settled for nothing less than perfection.

Which was why Mai found it incredibly odd when she began to take time out of her day to speak with her and Ty Lee. It was subtle at first, just minor greetings here and there, surprising the both of them since neither had expected Azula to even know their names. But over time, it became more and more clear that Azula had deemed them worthy of her friendship.

Ty Lee took to the unsaid invitation as quickly as she could, so excited to have something defining her from her sisters. Mai would have liked to do the very opposite, but knew that her mother would be ecstatic that her only daughter had managed to become close with a member of the royal family. So she did as her parents would wish, and their trio quickly became rather infamous throughout the entire Academy.

Friendship with Azula was an interesting thing. She was ruthless and cutting at her worst, but at her best she was somebody Mai could not help but wish to follow. Some of Mai's fondest memories of the next few years consisted of the three of them finding ways to get back at jealous upperclassmen, playing in the royal palace together, and experimenting with their respective talents. They were a team and Mai could admit to herself that she enjoyed being a part of something in her life that did not involve her parents watching at every turn. With Ty Lee and Azula, she could be more of herself than she was with anybody else.

They were into their second year of Academy together when Azula first brought them to the royal palace where her family lived. Mai and Ty Lee were both children of influential noblemen. But even they were reminded of their place when they visited. Azula had royal blood and that alone made her different.

The palace was their own private getaway, a place where other schoolchildren could not go so easily. It was here where Mai could share her ability with knives and where Ty Lee would try to teach them acrobatic techniques and how she was trying to learn a near-forbidden art of chi blocking. They could come here, away from Ty Lee's siblings and Mai's parents, and grow their friendship. Sometimes, Mai would sometimes catch Azula really truly  _smiling_  with them and something within her wanted to help such a thing happen more often. This was the girl who had brought them together and had given them a place to belong.

It wasn't long before Mai and Ty Lee met Azula's family. They had run into Zuko first, as Azula had spotted him somewhere in one of the many courtyards and had dragged him over to be introduced. He'd been polite enough, if a bit distant, and instantly wary whenever Azula was near. Princess Ursa had met them next, greeting them warmly and offering refreshments and thanking them for being such wonderful friends to her daughter. They'd only met Prince Ozai once, to formally bow before he was off busy with his duties in the palace. Azula's family seemed nice, almost oddly normal for people so high in the nation's hierarchy.

But a few more visits made it clear that things were not as they seemed. Azula was a great friend and somebody Mai admired and trusted. But nowhere else did she let her barbs show more than she did with her family near. She became cracked around the edges a little whenever she saw any of them and as time went on, she hid it less and less whenever Mai and Ty Lee were around.

It was not Mai's place to speak about such things. She, like Ty Lee, only watched when she cut at her brother and ignored her mother, knowing it was not their place to intercede with the royal family. They were outsiders who had been allowed a look inside and to step out of line might have greater consequences than they could handle. They knew their place and maintained their positions at Azula's side. She was their protector and it was only with her orders that Ty Lee ever tried her chi blocking with Zuko or Mai would practice throwing at him as a moving target. They would have never dared to do so otherwise, but who were they to refuse when Azula suggested games like that.

Zuko himself was not quite so bad. He was kind generally, if a bit dismissive of their "girly weirdness." It was clear to Mai though that what Azula had in talent and authority, Zuko lacked. He was his sister's opposite and while it made him a softer soul, it also made him that much less likely to impress those around him. He wasn't strong enough to look an armadillo-lion in the eye and have it back down like Azula could.

So it wasn't a surprise when Azula took his elevation to Crown Prince's son very poorly.

The moment Mai had heard the news, she knew that she and Ty Lee would have quite a situation on their hands. Azula might have been their protector and their sword, but they served to as her shield, keeping lesser threats away as they improved in their skills and simultaneously keeping her away from situations she might inadvertently damage beyond repair. Azula was the strongest of flames and, like all powerful flames, she sometimes hurt those who might come too close.

So they were prepared when she walked into their classroom a few days following and made sure none of the gossip about her brother, her mother, and her family in general dared to reach her ears. They almost made it through her entire first day back without incident until one of the upperclassmen whispered a little too loudly that Azula's "mommy is a traitor and her brother can now make her lick his boots."

Ty Lee and Mai didn't try that hard to stop their friend when she turned upon the older girl and proceeded to throw her against the wall with a snarl. Azula had the other girl by the throat, a fire dagger burning from a fist as she proceeded to shear off great patches of hair and ripped apart the girl's entire book bag. By the end of it, the upperclassman was a blubbering mess, promising to keep quiet and bowing as she should have been doing all along.

It would spread throughout the Academy by the end of the next day, Mai knew. But both she and Ty Lee let it happen because this too was what Azula wanted. She wanted to hurt somebody and show people that she was not down for the count. That she was still in control. Azula was somebody who got what she wanted when she wanted it, and nobody should ever be allowed to forget it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So while writing this, I couldn't help but wonder if an 11 year old was capable of doing something like facing a guard more than three times his age and commanding. But then I had to remember Zuko and Azula probably received training on this sort of thing from the time they could walk. As part of the royal family, they would be taught how to act, live, and breathe like they might one day inherit the country (especially with Ozai as a father). Zuko probably knows the ropes, he just doesn't have much practice using it since he's basically been told he's a failure his entire life and feels undeserving.
> 
> Enough of my thoughts though, I just wanted to ask that you forgive me for any grammatical/spelling errors since I only edit briefly and have no beta. I would also like remind that my updates won't be consistent, so thank you to all who still read my stories regardless!
> 
> Till next time!


	11. Part 1: Lack of Faith

I do not own anything that could get me sued (i.e. Avatar the Last Airbender). Thank you to everybody who commented! It always mean so much to me :)

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**Part 1: Lack of Faith**

Zuko's forehead was creased, his eyes narrowed as they traced the characters on the scroll he was holding. Absently, he felt Hua undo his topknot as Meili and Ting made their way around the room. They were finishing up for the day, having already changed their prince into a more suitable clothing for the evening weather as well as a myriad of other small tasks to make Zuko more comfortable. Today he had finished his assigned schedule on time, early enough for them to complete their tasks with him present. But on the days he was out late or busy, they usually laid out clothes and cleaned the room for him so he could prepare for bed on his own. It was a routine the young prince was used to now and one he enjoyed. All of them were incredibly adaptive, quickly noting how Zuko preferred certain robes over others or how he appreciated the occasional warm towel to wipe his face or how he had a distinct dislike of foot massages. They were skilled in their duties and perceptive on top of it all, sensing when their prince wished for conversation to distract him or knowing when he was best left alone.

Like now.

Zuko had been studying the noble he would be shadowing as a scribe for the last week. Ever since a sizeable pile of scrolls regarding one Lord Eishun arrived a few nights following his dinner with the Fire Lord, the prince had been poring over the texts religiously. There had never been any doubt that he was expected to read and memorize everything that had been given in preparation; failure to do so would undoubtedly leave him stranded once Zuko took up this new portion of his education.

The majority of the information included the Lord's lineage, family trade, political views regarding the nation's policies, and his stance on the war. There were a few scrolls also dedicated to some unnerving amount of data regarding the man's personal life and nuances (which left Zuko wondering how the Fire Lord had managed to gather that sort of information) as well as a single scroll detailing the prince's alias for the assignment. It seemed the Fire Lord had taken Zuko's point of remaining anonymous seriously. The young prince hadn't expected his grandfather to go so far as to give him another identity entirely, but Zuko wasn't necessarily unhappy about it.

What he  _was_  unhappy about, was the fact that he also had to learn how to be a scribe within the span of two weeks. Scribing was something men and women spent  _years_  perfecting. The profession itself was more than learning script and shorthand to best copy documents or statements; it was a title that encompassed writer, accountant, government official, historian, and scholar all in one. People grew up in the scribal tradition, were sent to academy when old enough, and then handed down the title of scribe from their fathers. It was the one position that all children of a family could inherit for scribes were in constant demand from the nation's nobles. In a few cases, some scribes were so esteemed they themselves became part of the nobility.

A scribe was a walking knowledge bank, not one who necessarily came up with new knowledge, but one who served as the bridge between the academic and the political. In order for proper regulations and actions to be decided upon, there had to be enough background and information to justify any uptaking. In many ways, scribes served as a jack-of-all trades to their Lords and sometimes to whomever could afford it.

Zuko knew he had always received an education rivaling that of the greatest of academies. He was never sent to class outside the palace due to his place as his father's eldest child and supposed heir. But even before he had been elevated to the Crown Prince's son, Zuko knew that Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa had always chosen the best for their children (even if the teachers sometimes didn't suit the student). In fact, Azula was attending the most prestigious Royal Fire Academy for Girls in the entire nation – a testament to the quality of the education provided there.

But Zuko was under no delusion that he could apply everything he had learned so far to the position of a scribe. True, child scribes his age were often sent to begin an apprenticeship of sorts under various Lords to begin exposure. But the prince was worried that there were some habits one could only attain by growing up the son of scribe, much like how one could only adopt proper mannerisms befitting royalty if taught from the crib. Surely somebody would catch him in his act even if he did study scribing without end for two weeks?

Zuko supposed that was probably why the Fire Lord had decided upon choosing  _this_  alias in particular. Kuzon was apparently the child of colonists who had left the capital early to raise their child in the frontier of the growing nation. His parents had moved at the Fire Lord's request, something that wasn't uncommon since scribes had indeed been sent to the country's growing lands. But his parents had also ensured their son maintained his scribing heritage to preserve their Fire Nation status; it would not have been prudent to have future generations lose the family trade after all. After growing up in the town of Bulan in the western Earth Kingdom for a good portion of his childhood, Kuzon's family had decided it would be beneficial for him to return to the capital so that he could reconnect with his roots.

It was, all things considered, a good cover. Kuzon's lack of traditional scribing habits could be attributed to his unconventional upbringing and any blatant gaps of knowledge could be due to his home schooling since there were no academies established in Bulan. And even if Zuko himself had never been to the colony his alias had grown up in, neither had many of the nobles he would be interacting with. So long as he showed adequate knowledge and acting ability, nobody should suspect him. It was a rather ingenious way to combine Zuko's studies on foreign policy and regulations affecting their subjects outside of the Fire Nation with his education on capital intrigues.

Still, ingenious of a plan or not, the last week had been a cram session of new information and it had added a whole new meaning to the word  _busy_. Sometimes, as Zuko stayed up late into the night studying, he wondered how less than half a year ago he had been only learning traditional subjects. It made his chest ache a little to think about. Things were so different now with the Fire Lord personally invested in him and his family so separated…

"My prince?" a familiar voice called, pulling Zuko from his reading.

The young prince glanced up immediately and saw Qi waiting by the door, his hands occupied by what seemed to be the ever-present scrolls and brushes used when maintaining Zuko's schedule. Immediately Zuko knew why the older boy was present.

"Qi! Come in," the prince said, motioning with a hand and placing his reading to the side. "Hua, Meili, and Ting are almost done here."

All of his other three servants nodded, taking the hint and swiftly gathering their things. They knew Zuko preferred to discuss end-of-the-day business with Qi alone and while the prince felt a touch of guilt for giving the impression that he only shared important information with only one, he knew that it was better to have fewer involved. Once the three ladies were out of the room and the doors closed, Qi quickly settled into a seat just opposite his prince. Like Zuko had become accustomed to the Fire Lord's preferred format of conducting their meetings, so had the scheduler adjusted to Zuko's preferred method of discussion.

"I have the scrolls you requested me to pick up, my prince. Staff Sergeant Wang was fairly discreet. I am fairly confident nothing seemed out of the ordinary to anybody watching, but I cannot say for sure…"

Zuko nodded, taking the scrolls and briefly opening one to glance at the contents before looking back up at Qi. "Thank you. I know this isn't exactly part of your job, but I couldn't think of anybody else I could trust to do this for me."

"My prince, I am always honored to do anything you ask of me. But I am not quite sure you should put so much faith in somebody who simply schedules your day –"

"Qi, I've told you before that you can just call me Zuko when we're alone."

"– because I am not properly trained in anything outside of my position," the older boy finished before twisted his mouth and defiantly adding, "My prince."

The young prince struggled to hold in his sigh at Qi's insistent formalities, but he waved away the concerns. "The guards probably don't know who you are, right? And even if they did, they probably think you are there to collect more information I need for my studies or something just as boring. No offense, Qi, but you're not exactly what comes to mind when people think of a threat."

"And I shouldn't be, my prince," the older boy shrugged. "That is not my place."

Qi could be as humble as he wanted, but Zuko knew there were many ways to be dangerous. Qi probably knew more about the capital's workings than Zuko did in some ways and the young prince knew nobody in the Fire Nation was raised without knowing some forms of defense. He might not have Zuko's training, but the young prince could guess that the scheduler was probably capable of holding his own.

Still, Zuko knew better than to push and changed the topic to something he had been meaning to ask his scheduler-turned-confidante. "Do you know anything about scribing, Qi?"

The older boy didn't need any explanation as to why his prince was asking this; Qi had been one of the first and only members of the capital to be informed of Zuko's impending studies. "I have been shown a few rudimentary basics and I do know a few scribes from my training days. But I cannot teach you adequately if that's what you were wondering."

"No, I figured. But you know enough about what it should all look like? What a scribe should look like?"

"Look like?" Qi asked, a little confused.

"I mean, even if I do end up studying everything I need to by next week – and that's a big  _if_  by the way – I'm not so sure I won't stand out."

"My prince, I'm sure the Fire Lord had thought that through already with your alias."

"You read my alias files?" Zuko asked with a slight grin, more impressed than intimidated by the other boy's knowledge. "How do you manage to read everything?"

"I didn't necessarily read everything; that would not be my place yet again," Qi replied dutifully if a bit amused by Zuko's own smile. "But I am not your scheduler for nothing, Prince Zuko. The Fire Lord would not provide you with anything less than the best."

"Humble, I see," Zuko muttered loud enough for the Qi to hear, but continued before the older boy could begin to splutter. "My grandfather's alias for me does cover a lot, but don't you think it would be even better if I could blend in once I start my post?"

The scheduler looked at his prince with something akin to thoughtfulness, as if what Zuko had just said was something the older boy hadn't expected. Qi had been giving him that look often lately, but the young prince was beyond trying to read too much into it. "I do not presume to offer you advice on things I am no expert in, my prince, but I suppose you are correct. It would be easier for you if you did mingle smoothly."

Zuko beamed. He still wasn't quite accustomed to being told any ideas of his were good. And even though Qi had never or would never discredit his prince openly, Zuko still took the older boy's acceptance as a positive. It was nice, really, to have somebody to talk to like this.

"But it won't be easy," Qi continued saying. "It will be quite the opposite of your training as prince. And I am certainly not qualified –"

"– because you weren't trained to teach me these things, I know," Zuko finished. "But is there really anybody who  _can_  tell me how to behave as a scribe?"

"Surely, the Fire Lord…" Qi trailed off as Zuko pulled forth his most pleading face. It was a face that the scheduler had begun to recognize as a deadly combination of pre-pubescent innocence and child-like hope. There was only a moment's pause before the older boy was sighing and rubbing his forehead. "My prince, if you insist, then I can hardly deny you this."

"Yes!" Zuko laughed, throwing a fist in the air for good measure. If he had been looking, he would have seen Qi's face soften at his prince's exuberance – something that Zuko was slowly showing more often as he gradually adjusted to his new life, so different from his withdrawn self a few months back. "Thanks, Qi!"

"We'll see if you are still so excited later," Qi said wryly. "I'm not so sure you will like what you hear. A scribe is quiet, unassuming, quick to adjust, and a noble's most useful shadow."

A mischievous twinkle touched the young prince's eyes. "So…I basically have to be you?"

"If you can manage it, then yes. Nobody would fault you, though, if you find it difficult."

Zuko stood from his seat, stretching as he did. "Well if all I have to be is a stickler for protocol and formalities then it probably isn't so bad with you helping me, right?"

~0~

It was, in fact, awful even with Qi helping him.

All of Zuko's fears about sticking out like a sore thumb had come into fruition. He had known it would be hard to learn the mannerisms needed, but as he hurried down the palace halls towards his first meeting with Lord Eishun, the young prince knew that there was absolutely no way he was going to manage it all perfectly. Like Qi had warned, being a scribe was the absolute opposite of everything he had been taught as prince.

It was going to be in the little things, Zuko knew. He had somehow learned all the basics needed, but none of that was going to matter if he forgot to never look at a noble's eyes first or that his head should always be bowed slightly in deference unless called upon. It helped a little if Zuko pretended like everybody he spoke to was the Fire Lord. But there were just some things so deeply ingrained within him that others would surely notice something amiss.

Meili and Hua had been confused to say the least that morning as they prepared Zuko for his day. Neither of them had questioned when Qi arrived earlier than usual with the robes of a novice scribe in hand and instructions ensuring Zuko's topknot for the day be unadorned. But the unsaid question was there and the young prince planned on explaining his situation – at least a little bit – to the rest of his servants once he survived his first day.

Right now though, the young prince had more pressing matters on his mind. Primarily, the fact that he was dangerously close to being late.

The palace was a place Zuko knew intimately and the sight of scholars, generals, and nobles was no foreign thing to him. But very rarely had he spend an extended amount of time in the west wing where all matters of state were addressed before being brought to the Fire Lord. This was a place of business and Zuko knew how busy it could get. Early in the morning, everybody was making their way towards their appropriate destinations as individuals of note held audience with their entourage in the private rooms lining the hall. In general, the rooms were not designated to a single noble or general's use. Instead, they were to be utilized by whomever required it that day in preparation for their audience with the Fire Lord. That way, there could be maximized efficiency in the number of audiences the Fire Lord could entertain and a streamlined manner of addressing the hundreds of concerns that arose within the country.

Preparation in the royal palace was the final step in a long process of bringing important matters to the Fire Lord's attention. The steps previous were all conducted within the second ring. Prior to even stepping foot within the palace's walls, nobles had to justify the topic of interest they were bringing forth and do so with ironclad evidence or significant political backing. There was no time to be wasted in the capital, particularly with a war being waged with the rest of the world, and to secure time with the Fire Lord took many hours of hard work, debate, and edging out of the competition. It was a system that had worked for over a hundred years and one that would continue to prevail within the near future despite being renowned for its cutting ruthlessness and intolerance for error. This was a nobleman's battlefield and like any battle, the weak would quickly be eliminated.

It was this sort of environment the Fire Lord decided Zuko needed to accustom himself to. With a system so complicated, it was no wonder the nation's ruler wished for a possible successor to learn and learn quickly. But Zuko worried to himself about whether he was truly capable and if perhaps this was going to all end up in a giant mess. This was, after all, much more Azula's cup of tea than his. He had never been one for the subtleties of politics, and his family and tutors had always been able to read him. How was he supposed to navigate this battlefield without giving himself away and embarrassing his assigned Lord?

It soothed Zuko somewhat when he spotted at least ten other scribes dressed in simple light blush robes with maroon lining like himself, all of whom had exhibited the same similar sense of urgency he knew he was exuding. As novice scribes, they were at the mercy of their many elders – the very bottom of the chain of command so to speak – and the pressure was definitely not lacking.

Which was why Zuko was currently close to a mental breakdown from his sheer inability to locate one single room. He had overestimated his familiarity with the palace and now, as his eyes hurriedly scanned the symbols atop each door, the young prince desperately wished he had not been so foolhardy. The prince could sense the sun nearing the designated meeting time and felt his stomach fall ever more intensely as the minutes flew by. How poorly would it reflect upon him if he arrived late on the first day?

Zuko knew the answer that to that question well enough, and decided upon his third search down the hall to finally stop the next scribe he saw and ask, "Please forgive my interruption, but could you point me towards the Lily Room?"

The boy, older than Zuko, glanced over from his papers and frowned. "New, aren't you? And on your Lord's audience day too." He rearranged the scrolls occupying his arms to free a hand. "Are you scribing for Lord Eishun?"

"How did you know?" Zuko asked, a little surprised.

"Lord Eishun always favors the Lily Room; it is the only one  _not_  named after a weapon."

The young prince's eyes lit up in hope. "So you know where it is?"

"Of course. It is hidden a little back towards the main foyer. You'll see it on your left."

"Thank you," Zuko said gratefully, bowing at the waist. "If I may, what is your name?"

"I am Shaojun. And you are…?"

"Kuzon."

Shaojun grinned, nodding his head as if approving of the name. "Well, good luck Kuzon. And scribe to scribe, I must say that you are incredibly brave working for Lord Eishun."

"What?"

The look of genuine sympathy on the elder scribe's face did very little to ease Zuko's anxiety. "You didn't know? Lord Eishun has high standards and if you don't impress him, he has a tendency to request a new scribe. He hasn't kept his last three scribes for longer than a day."

None of the scrolls Zuko had read on the man had mentioned  _that_  particular piece of information.

The look of complete dread must have been plastered all over the prince's face because Shaojun offered yet another few sympathetic words of encouragement before departing. Zuko knew already that the noble he would be serving under was eccentric. Almost all of the recorded descriptions on the man had said so. In a country riveted by the war and its progress, he was the only individual of note who dedicated himself to other matters. Lord Eishun was a man of the arts and it was not a surprise that he preferred the Lily Room like Shaojun had said. But never in any of the scrolls had it warned Zuko that it was entirely possible to fail at his assignment within the first day.

Zuko found the location quickly after being told that it was a little hidden, finding it tucked into a deviation in the walls he had missed the first few times he had passed. Normally the young prince would be irritated at the poor placement, but all he could feel upon seeing his destination was unadulterated relief after hearing of the noble's strict standards. He had made it just in time! Zuko was so distractedly happy that his proceeded to commit the first mistake of the day: forgetting to announce his presence by knocking twice. By failing to do so, he was potentially interrupting important discussion and presuming higher status than those inside. Only those of greater standing could walk into a room without announcement.

All heads turned the moment Zuko stepped inside. The room, decorated with lilies and and painted depictions of beautiful gardens as befitting of its name, was illuminated by the rising sun and gave the prince a very clear view of the distinct frowns directed his way. The single low table was filled with seated aged men, older than Zuko's own father by at least a couple of decades. And their severe expressions were made all the more evident by the lines wrinkling their brows and stately robes depicting their stations. At the very head of the table sat their collective lord, and upon his face was the most prominent look of distaste Zuko had seen in months. The only non-disapproving face was that of a solemn boy dressed in the robes of a scheduler at the lord's right hand.

Zuko wanted to slap himself for his own carelessness and crawl into a hole where he could hide forever, but decided instead upon damage control. Immediately, he fell into a low bow at the waist with his head lowered and begged, "Please forgive my interruption, Lord Eishun. It was foolish and inexcusable. I swear upon my honor that it shall not happen again."

"Foolish and inexcusable indeed," Lord Eishun sniffed, his whitened beard moving in his irritation. "And nearly arriving late as well. Why must I be sent scribes of such sub-par standards? I cannot believe how poorly the Academies are teaching these days. Think you are capable of being  _my_  scribe, do you?"

Zuko felt his heart sink at every word, suddenly feeling failure upon his shoulders. He was already preparing himself to be expelled from the room. He had known this would be crazy. He was hopeless and pathetic and –

"Stand up and look at me, boy. I won't deal with your driveling nonsense. You are excused this one time, but one more mistake and I  _will_  have you sent back to get a proper education, am I clear?"

It took a moment for Zuko to process that he wasn't going to be dismissed, and was thankful when his body responded before his mind did. He was crossing the room and seating himself a little behind Lord Eishun's left hand by the time relief slammed into him for the second time that morning and already, the conversation of the room was moving on without him.

Moving with all haste, Zuko struggled to pull out his writing materials and keep up with the discussion. His first few pages were a mess, complete with near illegible shorthand from the many mistakes he made as his mind worked on overtime to remember everything he had learned the last two weeks. The prince almost caught none of the conversation's meaning since he was so occupied with simply ensuring he missed nothing of note. But after a time, Zuko found himself slipping into a rhythm and he gradually began to listen in as his brush moved unceasingly.

"The Fire Lord will surely see the importance of maintaining the musical curriculum within the nation's schools," one of the men was persisting. "What sort of country would we be without music to spur our children and soldiers on?"

Lord Eishun gave a swift nod. "It is absolutely crucial we bring that up. It will go well with today's agenda of convincing the Fire Lord to maintain the art programs within the Academies. We cannot allow the war with the other nations to hinder our own cultural growth." The nobleman threw his fist down upon the table. "This could influence generations after us!"

Another of the men grasped his chest in what seemed to be agony. "I cannot imagine a world where our children do not know the beauty of music!"

"Or the joy of fire weaving!"

"Or the creativity of puppetry!"

The remainder of the entire meeting continued in such a manner, with each man expressing their dire fears of a dying art and with Lord Eishun agreeing with fueling each and every one. At first, Zuko wondered if this was simply the preliminary, the side note to the dominating argument that was sure to reveal itself at some point. But as the sun began to reach its zenith, Zuko realized with horrifying clarity that there was no such greater argument to be had.

Lord Eishun and his supporters were passionate. That much was clear. The very fire of their entire beings were dedicated to a cause they believed in. Nobody could speak for so long and so persistently on one such topic alone unless they truly meant it. Zuko's mind fell back into his readings regarding Lord Eishun's entourage and the seemingly small detail that almost all of his men were prominent artists of varying crafts suddenly came into the forefront. All of the men here were probably at the very pinnacle of their trade, people who were well respected. But they were from another age, where their entire world was art and no room was made for other concerns like war.

Zuko knew there were merits to preserving a long taught subject within the Academies. Art was certainly something he knew was learned in all schools. But what amazed him was the fact that this somehow had made it past other topics that were surely in line for the Fire Lord's attention.

When the time came for their audience with the Fire Lord, Zuko gathered his things and followed dutifully at the end of the group as expected of his status. But the closer they got to the throne room, the greater he had a sinking feeling that this would not go the way Lord Eishun probably hoped. It did not help either that the last time Zuko had been before the Fire Lord in so formal a setting involved being told he was going to be the next Crown Prince after his mother had disappeared.

Months old feelings and memories were tickling the edges of his mind and it took all of his willpower to push it aside. For now.

The throne room was just as Zuko remembered it: huge, imposing, and dark despite the enormous wall of flame separating the Fire Lord from his petitioners. Seeing his grandfather's shadowed figure and severe expression almost made the prince flinch. After a couple of months, he had already almost forgotten the man was capable of such an image. This was certainly all Fire Lord and none of the grandfather Zuko often found confusing his emotions. This was once again everything Zuko had initially despised and he felt startled at the juxtaposition.

Still, he kept his head bowed and seated himself back behind Lord Eishun's left hand as required of a scribe, falling to his knees and placing his hands upon the floor just as everybody else did. He was too confused again and moved simply on autopilot.

"Raise your heads," the Fire Lord commanded, his voice gravelly but strong. "Lord Eishun, you come before me with a petition. State your business."

"Fire Lord Azulon," Lord Eishun began, raising his head and straightening his back, unflinching despite being on his knees. Zuko hastily opened his scroll and extracted his brush to record the exchange. "I come before you to address the matter of Academy teachings across the nation. There is news that the arts are going to be dismissed in favor of increased physical training."

"Indeed. Lord Rikyu proposed this change. He argues that in this time of war, our nation's children should be given the greatest preparation possible for service to the country. I am inclined to agree."

"I understand that you must feel this necessary." Zuko, personally, had a feeling Lord Eishun didn't  _actually_  understand. "But I humbly request that you consider the negative effects of such a change. Already, over half of the students' education is centered upon preparation for war. If what is left of the arts program is eliminated, our country's children will be deprived of any outlet for their passions. Their creativity would be stifled. Our cultural heritage would be neglected and deteriorate!"

"Do you have evidence that such a thing would truly happen? We may always resume such artistic pursuits once the war is over, Lord Eishun. The war is of paramount priority."

"Your Majesty, we have petitions from all of the artists in the capital. We have prepared record accounts of students performing increasingly poorly on trade exams. If you would be willing to look –"

"A non-military man such as yourself might not be able to comprehend," the Fire Lord interrupted, impatience leaking into his tone. "But when one is engaged with the enemy, one must give their entire focus to success or risk the consequences of failure. What part of your proposal would help our nation like training might for our children who would go to war?"

And suddenly Zuko realized what, exactly, would capture the Fire Lord's attention. So far, the nation's ruler had been disinterested, clearly thinking that this petition would not matter in the long run when lives were at greater risk. But if Lord Eishun could somehow link the arts to some war effort…

Zuko moved before he could convince himself not to, leaning forward and daring to whisper advice into Lord Eishun's ear. The prince knew he was probably already on a one-track road towards dismissal by the end of the day after his first blunder; he might as well go all in and hope for the best if he wanted to last longer than a day under this particular nobleman.

At first, Lord Eishun was silent and still, and Zuko feared what was about to come. But then then man opened his mouth and spoke.

"Your Majesty, we must maintain a higher standard than is expected as a superior people. The other nations might feel the need to pour everything into the war, but we are powerful and must not show any compromises to the enemy. By eliminating the arts programs, we are almost assuredly stating that the Earth Kingdom is straining our resources. Any word of this would not only bolster enemy forces, but also influence our own citizens' morale and beliefs."

Silence. For the longest of moments, there was only the crackle of the flames wreathing the Fire Lord's throne and the thudding of Zuko's own heart in his ears. It even seemed like his grandfather's eyes lingered upon Zuko's form for the briefest second despite knowing the prince was under disguise.

Then, the Fire Lord was nodding and Zuko could hardly believe it was working. "Your argument is worth considering, Lord Eishun. I will think on it. For now, I shall halt the elimination of the arts from the nation's curriculum until further notice. I shall summon you again if I deem it necessary. You are dismissed."

And just like that, they were out of the throne room and walking down the Hall of Portraits back towards the palace's main foyer. About halfway along the passageway, Lord Eishun looked back and barked, "You, scribe, come here."

Zuko almost tripped in his haste, but he was at the nobleman's side in an instant, barely remembering to keep his eyes politely downward. "Lord Eishun?"

"Show me your notes for the day. Quickly now." The handful of scrolls the prince had used for records were swiftly placed into the man's waiting hands. Zuko had barely any time to worry over the sheer messiness of them before Lord Eishun was opening one and eyeing the characters on the paper. The man harrumphed and twisted his mouth. "Your scribing skills are paltry and your manners even worse. Anybody could tell you were perhaps the worst of your class and if I didn't know better, I might guess you were trained in the colonies."

"Um, my lord, I  _was_  raised and trained in the colonies."

"And there you go, being rude again, boy. Don't you know that if I don't ask, I don't care? You have quite some ways to go; this is unacceptable."

Zuko knew he was probably flushed, humiliated before the entire entourage once again. But if there was anything he had learned to do in his life, it was to take verbal beatings without complaint. He could only hope his face didn't betray his emotions like Azula had always said it did.

Lord Eishun all but threw the scrolls back into Zuko's arms. "I expect you  _early_  from now on. And your notes to be spotless. None of this peasant's work. You are to conduct yourself as befitting of your place as scribe and to do exactly as I ask." The meaning of the words were only now dawning upon the prince and he had to try very,  _very_  hard not to burst into an enormous smile. "And you aren't to wear those robes anymore; they are a crime to true cloth-work. Why they insist upon placing all of the scribes into such hideous examples of manufactured monotony I have no idea."

The list continued as they proceeded down the hall, commands and reminders to do this and to most definitely _not_ do that went without end. But all Zuko heard was the wonderful fact that he was staying and that he had somehow managed to pass Lord Eishun's unofficial test.

~0~

"We will be attempting something different today."

Zuko tried not to let his curiosity show at that statement as he settled into a seated position across from his grandfather. It was two days following his start as a scribe and having time away from the hectic bustle that was serving under Lord Eishun was somewhat of a relief. Flipping between prince and scribe would take some time to get used to, but Zuko had little choice in the matter. This was going to become yet another norm in his ever changing life.

The dinner of his first day as scribe had been prefaced with fear, the picture of the Fire Lord in all of his detached demeanor once again prominently in Zuko's mind. But his grandfather had not seem changed in the slightest as the meal progressed, as frustratingly infuriating and curious of the prince's day as any other. The elder man had seemed unfazed by Zuko's increased discomfort, only acknowledging it by pausing at the very end and saying, "Zuko, I want you to know that your suggestion to Lord Eishun was well thought out and well presented in the small amount of time you had. It was resourceful and clever. You will do well."

That alone had made some traitorous part of Zuko unbearably pleased.

They were in the Fire Lord's private courtyard now, a place for the nation's ruler to take some time away from his duties and those who demanded his attention. It was larger than most in the palace and impeccably decorated with a fountain towards the center and several planted trees extending their willowy arms towards the sky. The grass was almost soft beneath Zuko's feet and a gentle breeze tickled his face. It was not your typical setting for firebending practice, but it was here where the Fire Lord tutored his grandson.

They were completely alone, with the entire square area walled off and the imperial guard keeping watch outside. It was a rare privacy for the both of them and only in the greatest of emergencies was anybody allowed inside without the Fire Lord's permission. Otherwise, they were left to themselves for the greater part of two hour's time.

Customarily, Zuko would begin his sessions with breathing exercises. He had learned early on that there would be no idle talk during his lessons; only a bow of respect at the beginning and end deviated from his otherwise complete focus on his firebending. From the moment he stepped inside until his departure from the courtyard, Zuko was constantly bending. His only respites were when the Fire Lord spoke to him about improvements or new techniques. Otherwise, he was allowed no breaks and even Zuko had to admit it was beginning to do wonders on his stamina.

It seemed that today would be different, though.

"I have seen your progress these last few months, Zuko. You have improved, but I sense that perhaps this is not the most effective manner of training for you."

Zuko tried not to let his anxiety with those words show. Typically, his lessons with the Fire Lord allowed no time to breathe, let alone think. So much so, that he often did not have to worry about the fears or conflicting emotions he normally battled with when in his grandfather's presence. This change in routine unnerved him. Did the Fire Lord finally conclude his grandson was incapable? Did he feel that all of their efforts were ultimately going to waste? Was Zuko's firebending as hopeless as everybody had always been telling him?

The slight sigh from his grandfather's lips pulled Zuko's attention away from his thoughts. "Child, I do wish you would listen to me properly when I am speaking to you. I am not stating anything permanent about your bending ability, only that you require a different approach."

It sometimes felt like the Fire Lord could read his very thoughts. The young prince attempted to swallow his fears, pushing aside any misgivings. "Forgive me, my Lord."

"No matter, we shall work on that as well." The elder man waved away the apology as he normally did, already moving on. "Today we will focus upon the root of your bending. We must go to the very basics and see if there is something we are missing."

Zuko couldn't say he understood exactly what the Fire Lord meant, but he voiced none of his concerns. Sometimes it was easier to see what the man meant. So he bowed his head briefly in acquiesce and waited for further instruction as was expected.

He almost flinched when his grandfather abruptly moved closer. "Relax, Zuko." Easy enough for the Fire Lord to say. "I am only going to try to see how your chi moves when you bend, from your stomach where your sea of chi is."

Zuko's eyes widened in surprise; he hadn't known it was possible to do such a thing. "How will seeing my chi help?" A few weeks ago, the prince wouldn't have dared to ask and question his grandfather so easily. But it had become clear rather quickly that the elder man preferred clarifying anything Zuko didn't understand up front. They had no time, the Fire Lord reasoned, to spend on formalities when they could be conducting more important affairs. Respect and tradition were still requirements, of course, but only in the correct settings.

"Your bending is closely tied to your chi," the Fire Lord explained, unaffected by the now-customary lack of formality between them when they were alone. "It is only through manipulation of your energy that you are able to bend at all. I am unable to truly see your pathways and heal, but in my years I have found it possible to sense others of the flame and how the flame moves within."

"Seeing how my flame moves will tell you how to fix my bending?" Zuko asked, still a little confused. Spirituality and talk of life energy was something he was unfamiliar with. He had been taught, of course, about chi and its importance in one's forms. But only the Fire Sages ever really spoke of it beyond battle purposes.

"Perhaps 'fixing' is not the right word. But it could be a starting point," the Fire Lord mused, moving his arm forward and gently placing it over Zuko's tunic slightly above the navel. "Now focus. Feel the energy as you have been taught. Breathe. Take your time. Allow your chi to flow and light a flame upon your palm."

Zuko had many more questions, but he obeyed and closed his eyes. His chest steadied into a rhythm and he concentrated. In this state, he could feel the energy within him more acutely, feel it throughout his body and give him strength. He sensed the thrum of fire everywhere: in his veins, in his grandfather's hand, in the warm grass beneath him, in the heated air, and in the center of his palm as a small ball of flame burst into being.

Zuko had done it slowly, just as he had been taught early on. Feel the flame from every part of him, and bring that same energy out in the form of fire. His mother had first told him those words, when his other instructor's words of "summoning power" did little to help him. It was only when he felt this deeply connected to the element that he could summon his fire.

Controlling it was another matter entirely though, something that could only come with practice.

The elder man abruptly broke the silence, still focused upon Zuko's energy, "Begin your breathing exercises, Zuko. There is something more I wish to see."

It was a simple enough request that all firebenders capable of doing with about a few months of training. It was an almost soothing state, where everything fell away and the only thing encompassing his mind was the fire. He felt the flame in his palm respond to the shift as it grew and shrank in time with each breath. It was easier to connect to a self-produced flame, since the fire had grown from his chi and was therefore already a part of him. Control of external sources of fire like candles or another bender's flame was harder since they existed independently and required one to extend their chi further. Zuko's teachers had described it to be like trying to manipulate another person's body; it was expectedly more difficult than moving one's own limbs.

Time ticked on, seconds turning into minutes and minutes turning into what felt like an indeterminate stretch. Zuko had expected the Fire Lord to stop not too long into this endeavor, but the man remained unmoving.

The sun was warmer today, fiercer as the beginnings of summer approached the Fire Nation isles. It warmed the courtyard, bringing energy to everything it reached. There was a vitality to the world when the sun shined and Zuko ever so slowly felt his mind falling into a sense of calm. He was but one of the many beings thriving with the flame of energy. All around him, the world throbbed with vigor and everybody from his grandfather to the guards outside the walls to himself was a part of it.

Something about that idea latched onto Zuko's mind, his normally turbulent thoughts slowly turning and tasting the concept. He explored that link, realizing with a little amazement that this was more than feeling another's fire. There was a connection amongst them all. A connection that Zuko might be over-imagining…

"Zuko, Prince Zuko."

The young prince blinked, his thoughts abruptly interrupted. He hadn't realized how much he had drifted and wondered how long they had been sitting there.

"I think I have seen enough; today has given me much to think on. That will be all," the Fire Lord said once he saw his grandson open his eyes.

Zuko watched the elder man stand from his seated position, his mind finally catching up to what was happening. He asked incredulously, "That's…that's it? That's it for today?"

That now-familiar touch of amusement curved the Fire Lord's lips upward. "As much as I enjoy my time with you, Zuko, I do still have a nation to run. I believe we are an hour over our allotted time already."

"An hour?" The young prince felt for the sun's position and immediately knew it was true. He was startled; how had three hours passed so quickly?

"I will be sure to let your teachers know you did not skip sessions," the elder man was saying, unflappable as he always was and leaving Zuko three steps behind. "It would hardly do to have them come mourning to me of lost time with you."

Unease trickled down Zuko's spine. He hastily stood up and hurried to keep pace as the elder man strode towards the courtyard exit. The young prince would normally never ask this, but he had to know. "My Lord, have I done something wrong? Were you able to see anything?" Was his firebending so beyond help that the man was beginning to give up? Had the Fire Lord seen something that made him regret raising Zuko's place in royal succession?

The elder man slowed his steps a little, turning his head to look down at the smaller boy trying so hard to retain his fear. An almost gentle look touched the Fire Lord's expression. "Zuko, it is not becoming of a future Crown Prince to have so little belief. I have seen what I needed and you shall know in time. I have something in mind for our next lesson, but it shall have to be delayed perhaps a week. I must make preparations."

Preparations for what? What had his grandfather seen exactly? Zuko still had a million questions begging to be asked, but he bit his tongue and accepted what he had been given. It had been more than the Fire Lord had any obligation to give already. The young prince instead focused on the small upside that he would still be having lessons, meaning he wasn't beyond teaching after all. There was still hope.

The Fire Lord placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder and for once, the prince didn't feel like flinching away. "Have faith," his grandfather said. Then, he was turning back towards the doors and gone. Back into his role as Fire Lord and back to his country, switching from one to the next with an ease the young prince couldn't even fathom.

Zuko followed suit after a brief moment, hoping that whatever conflict embroiled within him didn't show on his face as he passed the imperial guards.

_Have faith_. It was so much easier said than done.

* * *

I think you can tell the issue Zuko will be dealing with for now is his own insecurity. He might be doing better, but it isn't something he himself will recognize unless it is acknowledged by others at this point. Still, he is growing!

I know this is moving a little slowly for now, but I have plans for the future that involve a little bit of a faster pace.

Also, I ask once again that you remain forgiving of any errors in grammar or spelling or anything of that sort. I have a nasty habit of missing some things even after several re-reads!

Till next time!


	12. Part 1: Dragon's Tears

I do not own anything that could get me sued (i.e. Avatar the Last Airbender). Thank you as always to my reviewers! The comments always bring a smile to my face :)

* * *

**Part 1: Dragon's Tears**

Zuko grimaced a little as he narrowly avoided yet another scribe.

"Hey! Watch yourself, colonial!"

"Sorry!" Zuko responded back distractedly, anxiously making sure the scrolls he had in his arms were still in proper order. "Sorry!"

The accosted scribe muttered in disgruntled annoyance, but the prince was already out of earshot. Lord Eishun had demanded the paperwork be submitted by the end of the day for the official records to be finalized and if Zuko didn't have it in within the next ten minutes at noon, such a thing would no longer be possible. It wasn't that the prince-turned-scribe had been slacking; in fact, he had been trying his very best to do everything to his assigned noble's standard. But sometimes Lord Eishun had very little mind for proper timing and it was no wonder so few had lasted long under him. The man had a tendency to order things last minute, thinking certain tasks took far shorter than they did in actuality.

Lord Eishun's scheduler, Benki, had immediately tried his best to help Zuko adjust to their lord's eccentrics. With a now more permanent scribe in the entourage, all of the extra work could now be split between the two of them. In Zuko, Benki probably saw another helping hand and tried in earnest to have the prince settle in as quickly as possible. Not that Zuko didn't think the older boy was any less friendly, but the prince had the distinct impression that the scheduler had his hands full with Lord Eishun and had very little time for something as trivial as getting to know a novice scribe. They saw enough of each other on the job already and Zuko did not bother to try friendly overtures outside of their work especially since any time outside of scribing was dedicated to his studies as prince.

Still, a week was not enough for full adjustment and Zuko was often left scrambling more often than he preferred.

Life was now a hustle of endless tasks, even more so than before. On the days Zuko served as scribe, he left the palace before the sun broke the horizon, his grandfather having ordered the soldiers during those shifts to turn a blind eye, and met with Lord Eishun for the day's tasks. On some occasions, he was simply completing paperwork and following the nobleman to important meetings – innocent enough. But on other occasions, he had to help Benki with meetings organizations or even check the estate accounts. No two days were ever the same and often Zuko would go from one edge of the second ring to the other several times before the day was over. He found himself constantly on his toes and trying to absorb everything around him.

One of the perks of this new arrangement was the enormously increased time outside of the palace. Azula left the palace everyday, Zuko remembered, to go to the Royal Academy for Girls. But she had often voiced her displeasure with having to interact with the common rabble outside of the first ring and never bothered to stray anywhere beyond her path directly to and from her destinations. Zuko had envied her then, but now he would be spending at least three days every week outside himself. It was the silver lining he hadn't expected and it made his job as scribe a lot more enjoyable.

Life in the second ring was so different from life in the palace, and different still from the rare times Zuko had actually been there before. The only occasions he had ever stepped foot in the second ring had been during festivals and special events. But to see people in their normal daily lives gave Zuko insight he hadn't realized he had been missing. Things like how people greeted each other on a casual basis, what time the city would wake and sleep, and small favorite pastimes intrigued the prince.

The second ring was a place for nobles and housed countless estates and villas. Men of note would often visit each other in official capacities, weaving intricate connections and deals. But the real action happened at the noblemen's courthouse, a gigantic structure located in the eastern ring. There, heads of the capital families would debate their cause to be brought before the Fire Lord and rally support from others around them. It was not by accident that an Agni Kai stadium was located barely a few paces away; the deliberations had a tendency to escalate quickly.

The scribal headquarters, however, were not so optimally placed. It was located at the complete opposite end in the western ring – so far that it often left scribes in despair. The sight of scribes hurrying through the streets was not a foreign one and it was said that the fastest thing other than an eelhound in the Fire Nation was a scribe trying to meet an impending deadline.

Zuko certainly hoped such sayings were true because now he had eight minutes to get the paperwork done.

"Oh, Agni," laughed Shaojun as Zuko scrambled to his assigned desk. The older scribe was perhaps the only person who conversed with the prince consistently and voluntarily ever since their first meeting, offering help whenever possible. They had run into each other at the scribal headquarters early on in the week, and Shaojun had wasted no time in showing his admiration that the prince had gained Lord Eishun's approval. "In a rush again I see?"

"Six minutes," Zuko ground out absently, checking the scrolls one last time as he stamped each with Lord Eishun's seal. "I have six minutes."

Shaojun looked over curiously. "There is no line at the submission window. Lucky for you. Oh, Kuzon, don't forget the date on that scroll –"

Zuko yelped at the mistake, swiftly whipping out a brush and hastily writing it in. "Thanks, Shaojun. I owe you one."

"You owe me like twenty," the older scribe laughed, turning back to his own work. "But don't worry about it. We were all there once."

That was highly unlikely, Zuko thought, when it came to Shaojun. Since beginning his role as scribe, he had heard from word of mouth that the older boy had graduated at the top of his class, became scribe to one of the commanders of the navy straight out of school, and was rumored to soon be promoted. He was one of the best at his job and sometimes Zuko wondered why Shaojun bothered with a somebody like Kuzon.

Zuko was something of an anomaly amongst the scribes. His name had quickly been circulated once word got out that Lord Eishun had actually accepted him long-term. But hot on the heels of any respect that might have garnered was the knowledge that Zuko's alias, Kuzon, was from the colonies.

Growing up in the palace, Zuko had not realized how many complications hailing from the colonies might entail. They were all citizens of the Fire Nation, weren't they? Didn't they all fly under one flag? He had been taught that as prince, he must take into account  _all_  peoples in his country. No such divides were mentioned in his lessons. But apparently, anybody from the colonies and even anybody outside of the capital was somehow deemed of lesser quality. It was something Zuko was trying to come to terms with and he would have been lying if he said the stigma didn't annoy him. His many mistakes as he maneuvered through the sea of scribing etiquette did nothing to help his image and what the prince had once seen as a brilliant cover for his lack of knowledge quickly turned into the explanation for his every fault – earned or not.

Lord Eishun, thankfully, did not place too much stock into Zuko's supposed roots. He only cared for results and the prince took small comfort in knowing that any reprimands he gained was simply through his own lack of ability rather than preconceived notions of inferiority.

Ultimately, everything around him pushed Zuko to work and study harder to prove that he was more than he seemed in this new arena. Perhaps he had never been able to do so with his firebending (not yet at least). But here, the prince was determined to show otherwise. If he couldn't even do this, how was he supposed to one day rule the entire nation?

"Excuse me," Zuko said as he made a break for the submission window, four minutes to go. "Sorry! Excuse me." Out of the corner of his eye, the prince could see other scribes throwing him dirty looks. But he could care less when he was so close to completing his task. He reached the window – blessedly empty of any line since many had already turned in what they needed for the day – and tried his best to look somewhat composed as he placed all of the necessary scrolls down on the counter.

A girl only a couple of years older than Zuko sat at the window, her hair pulled neatly into a bun at the top of her head and wearing bright red robes to indicate her status. She was most likely a noble's daughter in an apprenticeship, gaining experience so that she might one day serve in the political arena. By serving here at the scribal headquarters, she would have access to the many records that came and went as a form of professional exposure. It was a rotation many girls interested in politics underwent after coming out of the Royal Academy for Girls and Zuko thanked Agni that Azula would never be caught dead doing something like this. That way, he would never see her here.

The girl raised her eyebrow, now relatively familiar with Zuko's face and name. They ran into each other often. Or rather, Zuko ran to  _her_  since she seemed to take the late morning shift and he often came towards the very tail end of the noon deadline. It was somewhat embarrassing for him since he was usually slightly disheveled from his forays across the second ring.

"Lord Eishun wants to have these records submitted to official archives," Zuko said, trying very hard not to shrivel underneath her piercing gaze. "If you would be so kind."

"Kind, I am not," she responded, pulling the scrolls in. "But you are before the deadline once again. Congratulations, I suppose."

"Thank you," Zuko smiled gratefully.

The girl huffed at his thanks, waving him away and slamming closed the window opening. The prince didn't really have it in him to be upset by such a reaction though, especially not after he had barely escaped disappointing Lord Eishun once again.

"Nice," Shaojun laughed as he watched Zuko from a few feet away. "Charming as ever."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised she doesn't close the window when she sees me coming."

"She thinks you're cute. You have that effect."

The prince's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I am  _not_  cute! I am an honorable and strong –" No, he couldn't say warrior here, not when he was supposed to be a scribe. "– citizen of the Fire Nation!"

"I believe it, but you're also adorably clumsy, Kuzon" Shaojun grinned, ruffling Zuko's hair and nearly undoing the prince's topknot in the process. The older boy had a habit of doing that, and the prince had long ago asked Hua to teach him how to tie his own topknot just in case. After all, how was he supposed to explain that he had no idea how to fix his own hair? Normal novice scribes did not have servants waiting on them.

Zuko scowled. He was  _not adorable_. He was a prince! A prince was not supposed to be  _cute_.

Shaojun must have noticed the unhappy expression on Zuko's face because he said, "Alright, alright. Not cute it is. How about we get some lunch together, then? My treat?"

Zuko blinked, blindsided. "Don't you have work to do?"

"I finished it," the older scribe shrugged. "Plus we can't be denied food to sustain us."

"Lord Eishun expects me back in a half hour."

"Of course he would," Shaojun sighed in sympathy. "Alright, a snack then? That can't hurt. Plus, I know you can run fast when you need to."

Zuko had to refrain from pointing out that he would prefer avoiding the need to do such a thing at all, but decided that perhaps he could indulge just this once. It couldn't hurt, could it? And he had passed by such a tasty looking pastry shop on the way over…

"Okay," the prince relented. "A snack."

~0~

Zuko checked for the last time for any signs of red bean in the corners of his mouth as he ascended the steps to Lord Eishun's estate. The pastry shop had been indeed delicious and the prince idly wondered if he should have indulged so much when he was sure to receive another assignment for the afternoon that would require more traversing. Still, for now, he was happy and his stomach content.

The guards hired to keep watch nodded at him as he passed, now familiar with Zuko. Benki still eyed them warily when he passed, especially since Lord Eishun was one of the few lords who actually hired guards, but the prince had grown up with guards in the background of his entire childhood. He had become accustomed to them long ago and after initially assessing them for any signs of hostility, Zuko had filed them to the back of his mind.

He maneuvered his way through the halls easily, having memorized the layout. The entire estate and its structures had been included in the noble's files and it certainly come in handy. Lord Eishun did not waste any time in home tours and while the staff was nice enough, the prince preferred not to be much of a bother. He found the nobleman's study room easily and entered after knocking politely twice, stepping in quietly and bowing immediately at the waist.

"Boy! Good, good you're here. I need you to do something for me."

Part of the reason Zuko could scribe for Lord Eishun only three days out of the week rather than every day like other scribes was because the man preferred working on his own. He did still require a scribe, but the majority of the time he was engrossed in his own research into the arts and only occasionally resurfaced to reality. It was at those times that he sent his entire entourage into a whirlwind of activity in an effort to keep up with the nobleman.

Lord Eishun was in one such whirlwind now, getting what was supposed to be days worth of work done in one. It had honestly been a miracle that Zuko had been able to grab a snack with Shaojun at all with the man demanding so much.

"How can I serve you, my lord?"

Lord Eishun beckoned Zuko closer, pushing a scroll into the prince's hands. "I have decided to ask my fellow supporting lords and ladies about their childrens' experiences at the Academies. It would lend credit to our petition should the Fire Lord summon us again. We would be fools to think it was all over from one meeting. I have no doubt Lord Rikyu will continue to pursue his agenda and we should be prepared for it. You are to go to each household name on this scroll with my request for an interview with their children. Five days should be long enough."

Zuko very nearly voiced his concerns about this idea. There were many holes in it, most prominently the assumption that other nobles would allow their children to interview alone with Lord Eishun and that the children would even agree with Lord Eishun's point of view on the arts programs. But he quickly clamped his mouth shut and took the scroll with only a deferential nod. Zuko's sessions with his grandfather must have been influencing him more than he had thought if his first instinct was to speak up. It hurt his brain sometimes to try to remember what he was allowed to do.

As Zuko slowly strolled down the estate's halls towards the entrance, he idly opened the scroll to get an idea of his next assignment and struggled not to groan when he saw that there were at least two columns of names. Five days? Lord Eishun was once again underestimating how daunting this task was. How was Zuko supposed to not only meet with but also convince each family to relinquish time with their children? Noble children were highly protected. Each family would take at least a quarter of a day at best. Still, the prince knew better than to complain.

His eyes were running over the characters on the page, trying to see if any particular family would be an issue. Zuko was far from familiar with all of the nobility in the second ring. But he had picked up a few things here and there and hoped to see a distinct lack of any ornery names.

As luck would have it, one immediately leaped to Zuko's attention and this time he  _did_  groan.

~0~

Chanming had never been a particularly devout man. He believed in Agni, of course, and spirits; which insane man wouldn't? But he did not think them too involved in lives like his. After all, he was simply one man amongst millions and the spirits most certainly had other more important individuals to keep an eye on. Chanming wanted nothing more than to be a good friend to his younger brother, a good husband to his beautiful wife, and a good father to his sons. He was a nobleman of the Fire Nation court and that was all there was to him.

But life never really goes the way you expected it to.

The first sign of change should have been when his children wandered into the royal palace. Chanming would never forget the terror that gripped his heart when Quiang had told him what had happened. For weeks afterward, he feared that his sons would be taken from him and his family destroyed. But then as if by some miracle, Quiang came home from his post one day and said that it had all been taken care of. None of them would have to worry any longer.

That sort of declaration sent all sorts of alarm bells flying through Chanming's brain. Something as large as trespassing into the quarters of the royal family didn't just simply disappear unless his brother had done something drastic. He had tried to ask what exactly Quiang had given for the safety of their family, but his normally open younger brother had remained tight-lipped.

Eventually, Chanming allowed the topic to die down and settle into an unspoken question. He could do nothing about it if Quiang was unwilling to share and it seemed his brother was right about the entire thing being taken care of after a few weeks of peace. Chanming felt himself falling back into the comfortable rhythm of daily life as it had been before and so did the rest of his family as the boys were finally relieved of their punishments two months following the incident. Everything was as it should be once again.

Other more mundane matters now occupied Chanming's mind. Things like the next shipment of rice and regulations of taxed goods filled his days, and he kept alert as allies within the court continued to shift as it always did. He noted with distinct pride that his eldest, Yan, was once again in the top percentage of his classes and pleased that his teachers often sent notices home of his proficiency both in matters of book-work and physical courses. Chanming supposed he had Quiang to thank for his sons' increased firebending abilities since both Jun and Lei had also begun to receive notices of similar approval.

Today was one of the more relaxed days, when Chanming could stay within the family estate. He had recently finished a missive to be sent to the territories in the outer islands under his jurisdiction; many nobles of the capital were not only responsible for their own place on the main island, but also of the many others they oversaw peripherally in the rest of the nation. Lower ranking nobles controlled the population and resources locally, but they ultimately reported back to those of the capital like Chanming. He liked to think he had a good relationship with the lords and ladies of the lands he presided over, and strove to present their petitions to the court and the Fire Lord as best he could.

With the large project finished now, Chanming could breathe a little and simply watch his children excitedly speak with Ruolan and Quiang about their latest lessons in school. It was a rare day when all of them shared a day off and could enjoy each other's company in peace.

"My lord, a scribe has come to deliver a message from Lord Eishun."

Alas. Chanming was woefully tempted to dismiss the visitor so that he could spend some more time with his family. But he knew such a thing was neither possible nor wise, especially with one of the elder nobles such as Lord Eishun. He was man of many mysteries, but also one of ferocious temper if provoked. So Chanming nodded and stood up from his seat overlooking the garden and his loved ones.

Yan noticed immediately that his father was departing, but Lei was the first to ask, "Dad! Where are you going?"

"Just taking a message, Lei. I promise I'll be back."

"Can we come?" Chanming's youngest had always been the boldest of them even if such boldness was partially the product of his youth.

"Not now, son. Perhaps in a few more years when you're older."

"Can  _I_  come?"

Chanming blinked, surprised to hear the question coming from Yan. His eldest was normally quiet and observing, never asking for more than was offered. But the nobleman supposed he had been seeing a change in his son lately. Ever since the trespassing incident, Yan had not only begun to speak more often, but he was also beginning to request more and more of a glimpse into Chanming's daily work. It made the man both proud and sad to see his eldest realize there were real consequences to everything one did here in the capital and that he would someday take over as head of the family. That was the sort of responsibility Chanming had hoped to introduce later after Yan had done all of the preparatory training first. But the nobleman realized that a part of his son needed this and decided, "Very well. Yan only. Jun and Lei, we will be back."

Both Jun and Lei threw their brother grumpy expressions, but they quickly dissolved into giggles when Yan grabbed them both for a hair tousle.

Father and son quickly made their way to the main foyer after that, aware that they had already made their guest wait some time. It was within a lord's right to address visitors when desired. But when said guest was a representative of a fellow nobleman, it was best to be accommodating. Chanming was not one to make unnecessary enemies. They settled into their cushions upon a slightly raised platform at the center of their receiving chamber. Cai, the family's recently assigned scribe, was already seated to Chanming's left hand as Yan sat to the right. Several servants were positioned as expected near the room's entrances and exits. Only once everybody was in place did Chanming motion for the messenger to be brought in.

A slender boy only a couple of years older than Yan approached, his head bowed and his hands forming the respectful Flame. His black hair was tied neatly into a traditional topknot, but his robes were made of finer quality than the normally distributed uniform of a scribe. The material was still the same shade of light blush denoting the scribal position, but it was smooth and well-fitted – as expected of one under Lord Eishun's service. Chanming noted with interest that the scribe was but a novice, with no additional trimmings or patterns on the uniform to show heightened status. His own scribe, Cai, was newly graduated and assigned to the family after his long-time predecessor had stepped down for retirement. But even Cai was of higher standing, with an extra maroon sash tied across his torso to indicate his exemplary grades in Academy.

What had this particular novice done to impress one of the most stringent noblemen in the capital?

"Lord Wang, I come on behalf of Lord Eishun."

"You are welcome here," Chanming replied as protocol demanded, giving the boy permission to raise his head. Once he did, the nobleman blinked a little in increased surprise. Very few had such brilliantly golden eyes. "State your name and message."

"I am Kuzon, Lord Wang. Lord Eishun extends well wishes to you and yours. If I may request some of your time, I have a personal request from my lord I hope you will accommodate."

The boy, Kuzon, seemed almost nervous. His eyes darting between the noble in front of him and…Yan? Chanming glanced with concern at his son, wondering why on earth the scribe would have any interest in the younger boy, only to see his son's face paled white. There was none of the composed calm Yan had been taught to project, but rather a look just shy of sheer terror. Chanming knew his son would not look so distressed if something of great importance was not happening and immediately he tensed at the unseen threat.

Yan noticed his father's questioning gaze and leaned in, his voice shaky as he whispered, "Dad, that's Prince Zuko."

That…couldn't be right. Zuko? Prince Zuko? A member of the royal family in the second ring dressed as a simple scribe? The idea was so ludicrous Chanming felt himself immediately doubting his son, something he normally did not do without appropriate reason to. He looked at Yan in the eyes, searching for any sign of falsehood. When all he saw was sincere shock and worry, Chanming prayed that this was all nothing more than a mistake as he commanded, "Cai, leave us for now." He raised his voice so that all of the other servants could hear as well. "All dismissed."

Cai gave Chanming a confused frown, probably wondering why his lord wished for this seemingly innocuous exchange unrecorded, but obeyed and stepped outside along with the rest of the household to give some privacy.

Once they were alone, there was only silence, the supposed Kuzon slipping into an almost unreadable mask. The boy seemed to be assessing something, turning something about in his mind. And just as Chanming was about to ask whether the scribe was really a prince of the country no matter how foolish it made him feel, Kuzon lifted his chin and straightened his back into a formal stance.

Suddenly, it wasn't so hard to imagine the boy as something more than a graduate of the Royal Academy.

"Lord Wang, I apologize for the interruption of your day. I see that Yan remembers me." Chanming wasn't quite sure if he was hearing this right. Was the boy in front of him actually confirming his son's claim? "I am more than willing to explain why I am here if you could also bring Staff Sergeant Quiang? I think it would be best for him to be here for this too."

Chanming had to try very hard to think beyond the shock still flooding his system and simply said, "Very well. Yan, go get your uncle."

His son wasted no time in jumping to his feet and fleeing from the room. For the few minutes that both prince and head of the household were alone together, there was only silence as Chanming struggled to maintain his composure. Logic reasoned that this was impossible. Who had ever heard of a prince, a  _future Crown Prince_ , appearing within a middle-tier noble home under the guise of a scribe? For what purpose was the prince – if the boy was to be believed – here at all? Were things not taken care of, as Quiang had claimed? Was the prince here to deliver his family's true punishment personally? The boy expressed nothing as they faced each other and Chanming felt fear trickle down his spine despite their clear difference in age. Before him stood a child who could very possibly send everybody he knew and loved to the furthest corners of the world to rot and nobody would argue.

Quiang came rushing in, Yan close behind. Any questions and any doubts the lord of the Wang household harbored about the true identity of the boy disappeared the moment Quiang prostrated himself at the child's feet. He watched with increasing horror as the truth was solidified in front of his very eyes.

"Prince Zuko," Quiang was saying, his voice muffled slightly by his lowered position. "It is an honor to have you in our household. Is there anything we may do to serve you?"

Chanming wasted no time in falling to his knees once the truth was confirmed and he heard Yan doing the same. All three of them bowed with their foreheads to the floor and the nobleman was almost glad his face was concealed for the moment because  _the next Crown Prince was here in the flesh._  Many citizens of the Fire Nation, even those who lived within the second ring, so rarely laid eyes upon royalty outside of official audiences and never this close in proximity.

"Rise, all of you. I didn't come here to disturb your home." A statement that was as close to an apology as the prince could possibly get. "The situation is a little…complicated."

The three Wang males lifted their heads, slowly getting to their feet. Even shorter than both Chanming and Quiang, the prince somehow left them standing uncertainly.

"If you would like, your highness," Chanming managed to offer, finally getting his bearings. "We could retire to a private room? We are alone here, but some added security might be preferred?"

Prince Zuko paused and seemed to think on it, his mouth twisting in a suddenly childlike movement. Then, before Chanming could feel himself become even more confused by such a display of innocence, the prince was nodding and they were walking out of the reception hall and into one of the smaller hallways. It was surreal, leading the nation's future towards Ruolan's favorite tea room for guests. It must have been some sight. But as they passed several servants and other members of the household, Chanming realized that it probably seemed like they were entertaining a novice scribe for business purposes. Nobody would ever guess that the child following them was of the direct line of Fire Lords.

By the time they had settled into the tea room and all servants notified to leave them for the remainder of their meeting, the nobleman felt a little more composed. This was an odd situation to be sure. But it was not one that necessarily boded ill news. He would hear what the prince had to say and from there perhaps something better might come of this. And if not, well…there was not much else Chanming could do now was there?

The prince was seated at the head of the table, a cup of tea held between his palms. His bearing was so significantly different from his initial entrance as scribe. Any sign of servility was gone, replaced instead by an unconscious authority. The boy himself did not exude confidence and strength in the way Chanming might have expected of royalty – certainly not like what he had seen from Fire Lord Azulon, Prince Iroh, and Prince Ozai. But there was something to be said of the way he never lowered his eyes and the way he maintained a controlled efficiency in his movements that belied his upbringing. How on earth Prince Zuko had managed to play himself off as a scribe – even a poor one – was almost unfathomable.

The prince was silent for a while. He seemed to be holding them all in suspense, testing them. (Or maybe he was simply unsure of what to say?) Then when he did speak, it was slowly as if he were tasting each word carefully. "Lord Wang, I am not here on any business of my own. You see, I am here on assignment at the Fire Lord's order."

Then, the prince proceeded to explain exactly why he was in the second ring dressed as a scribe of the lowest order. Apparently, the Fire Lord had deemed it most effective to have an heir to the throne learn of court politics by quite literally immersing the boy in it. The method was unconventional at best and simply mind-boggling at worst. The royal family never did anything in halves, but to go so far as to give the prince an entirely new identity? If Chanming hadn't known better, he would have thought the Fire Lord was testing his nobility by planting his own blood within their folds as a spy. But the longer Prince Zuko spoke, the more the nobleman became convinced the boy really was simply here to learn. If the Fire Lord wished for a spy, he would have sent a much less conspicuous individual. This prince in front of him was far too well trained as a member of the royal family. Anybody not looking for it would have simply seen poor manners in a scribe, but when one knew, it was as clear as day that any mistakes Prince Zuko made in his alias was a product of his upbringing.

It was an odd situation to be in for sure. But at the very heart of it all, Chanming realized every word the prince spoke was spoken in earnest. So when the prince finished his explanation, Chanming said, "Prince Zuko, I do not mean to presume that you would require any assistance in your new position, but if you are ever in need of some advice please know that I would be more than willing to extend a hand. And we will, of course, keep this information amongst ourselves."

Something – relief? – flickered across the prince's face as he bowed his head slightly in thanks. "You are most kind, Lord Wang. As a matter of a fact, I do have a request. Not as prince, but as a scribe."

Chanming had almost forgotten. In all of the overload of information the nobleman had been given, he had simply let it slip his mind that the prince had shown up at the Wang household for an actual scribal purpose. "Of course, your highness. How may we help?"

"Lord Eishun wants to keep the arts programs in the Academies. He wants to gather the experiences of the children of the various families supporting and neutral towards him. Would it okay for your sons to participate?" At Chanming's instinctual hesitation, Prince Zuko hastily added, "Please make this decision as if I were not prince. I am supposed to be making this request as a scribe."

That was easier said than done. It was no small thing to deny something to a member of the royal family. Prince Zuko, it seemed, still had not grasped the gravity of his position quite yet if he thought a noble such as Chanming would even dare to entertain refusing. It made the nobleman realize that perhaps it was wise after all to have the prince integrate himself under secrecy. Nobody with a sense of self preservation would even breathe incorrectly around the boy; he would never see the true workings of the court simply because nobody would be able to relax enough to allow that to happen. Chanming was conflicted because knowing was beneficial to him, but it would also make things so much harder. He couldn't afford not to consider how to best treat the prince now that all of the cards were on the table. Perhaps there was merit to the saying that ignorance was bliss after all.

"Your highness, Prince Zuko, if I may, I would be glad to participate in an interview."

Chanming turned to look at his son, shocked that Yan had spoken out of turn. It was a father's right to decide, but now that his son had committed himself, it would reflect poorly upon them if such a commitment were rescinded. The nobleman felt anger flickering at the flames in his chest and he made sure it showed as he looked his son in the eye. Did Yan not think before speaking? Perhaps Chanming had not planned to refuse the prince outright, but he had been hoping to circumvent his children's total involvement. By becoming personally invested, his eldest would be placing himself in the public eye far before Chanming had ever planned and it was sure to give his son enemies once word got out that he supported survival of the arts. Chanming enjoyed the arts as much as the next person. But many generals and other individuals of significant power involved in the war would think otherwise and see their proclaimed stance as an obstacle.

Prince Zuko, to his credit, was still looking at Chanming. He was aware of who held the final say in the household. But the nobleman was not one to show a divided front – especially not in front of a prince – and so he nodded reluctantly and agreed, "Yan may participate. But I would prefer it if you kept my other sons out of this. They are still young."

"I understand completely," the prince acquiesced. "I must thank you on behalf of Lord Eishun."

As well he might. Chanming's life had suddenly become a lot more complicated than he had ever planned. The nobleman bowed his own head and said, "We cannot accept such thanks. The Wang Family is honored that your highness has graced us with this news and your presence." He paused, unsure if what he was about to ask was within his limits. "But if I may, would it be possible for me to become aware of what my brother, Quiang, has given to pardon our family from our past transgressions?"

It was presumptuous to ask, Chanming knew. And dangerous. If the prince had not deemed to tell them, then the nobleman should have been content to remain uninformed. It did no good to bring up the fact that his family had in fact committed crimes in the past already. But Chanming had never been one to let his family carry any burden alone.

Prince Zuko was silent for a moment, undoubtedly weighing whether to have the noble before him punished further for his insolence. But then, "I don't think it could hurt to have you know as long as you keep this quiet too." The prince paused to gain confirmation of such silence, and Chanming quickly bowed, swearing secrecy as his son did the same. With promises acquired, Prince Zuko continued, "I have enlisted Staff Sergeant Wang to keep an eye on the inner wall for me and to report anything odd. I wanted to make sure that nobody else would get in as easily."

Chanming had to try very hard not to gape. For so large a crime as sneaking into the royal palace, that was almost unbelievable as a punishment. It was beyond merciful; it was almost foolish. But in a sudden strike of clarity, Chanming realized with a twist of his heart that Prince Zuko was – quintessentially – a good person. He was a member of the royal family and more influential than Chanming could ever hope to be at the age of eleven. But he had chosen to go out of his way and give the most lenient sentence in perhaps the entire history of the Fire Nation instead of the far easier route of reporting everything to the Fire Lord. It struck a chord in Chanming and despite all of the rumors he had heard of Prince Zuko's lack of prowess, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the kind of person he would want his family to live under.

Prince Zuko was raw, unpolished, and  _young_. But as Chanming bowed once again, his palms and forehead to the floor in his gratitude, he saw potential above all.

~0~

Dinner was a plate of steaming vegetables and fish, light and fresh so that the Firelord and prince would not feel the weight of their meal in the warming weather. Zuko had always enjoyed fish and noticed that since his first few meals with his grandfather, the number of fish themed dishes had increased. On any other day, the prince would be content to finish his dinner quickly and answer the Firelord's inquiries; it had become especially exciting to recount his adventures as a scribe since Zuko had so much more to say. But as the last week and few days had progressed, the prince had felt a gnawing restlessness burn inside of him.

"The Ru family agreed to interview with Lord Eishun today after I managed to answer Lord Ru's riddle," Zuko was saying. "A riddle! Would you believe it?"

"There is some rice in the corner of your mouth, Prince Zuko, but yes I daresay I  _would_  believe it." The Firelord delicately placed another morsel of fish in his mouth as he listened to his grandson's daily report. "Lord Ru does enjoy his mind tricks."

"I answered it correctly though," the prince declared proudly after wiping away the stray rice. "It surprised him."

The Firelord hummed. "I would expect nothing less. What was the riddle then?"

"Name a gift impossible without the hippo cow. Think of what some creatures can manage that others can only dream. And finally, put them together and tell me what you get?"

Zuko watched excitedly to see if his grandfather would be able to figure it out. It wasn't even a moment before the Firelord was raising a white eyebrow and answering, "A butterfly."

The prince tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. "You solved that quickly."

"Naturally," the Firelord mused with a touch of a smile. "But not to worry, Zuko. I have heard many a riddle in my time and that just happened to be one of them."

Zuko couldn't quite help a burst of laughter at that. He found himself returning his grandfather's grin despite himself.

"You've had a quite a day," the Firelord continued. "I am pleased to hear of your progress and experience so far. Is there anything else you wish to address before we conclude dinner, Prince Zuko?"

At that, Zuko's grin faded a little. He wondered if he should be so brash as to speak his concerns. Immediately though, he realized that hesitating had been a mistake. Now the Firelord would know for sure that there  _was_  something and ask about it regardless of any denials the prince gave.

Zuko swallowed, forcing himself to look at his grandfather in the eye. "My Lord, may I ask about when my…next firebending lesson will be?" Automatically, the prince searched for any anger or offense in the Firelord's expression.

There was silence for the longest of moments, the elder man's face unreadable. Then, the Firelord sighed, "Ah, Zuko. I wonder to Agni every day why you still fail to trust me so."

"Oh, no. My Lord, I –"

The Firelord held up a hand to stop his grandson's protests. "But I understand why you ask. I must confess that I have been holding you in suspense for too long. You see, at our last lesson, I noticed something very interesting about your bending. I was unsure about what I had seen, so I consulted Great Sage Fu. We share a theory, but it is only that: a theory. However, there  _is_  a possible test to erase any doubt."

"A test?" Zuko felt his stomach flip a little in anxiety. He dragged his eyes away from his grandfather, feeling something akin to fear now licking the corners of his mind. Had he truly exhibited something so odd last time that a test was necessary? Was there something wrong after all? Why else would his grandfather be going to such extremes?

"Have you ever heard of dragon's tears, Zuko?"

The young prince mutely shook his head.

"Dragon's tears are harvested and preserved from the last of the dragons. They are rarely used and kept safe in the catacombs. They are known to have special properties."

Special properties?

"It has been recorded that there have been firebenders of the past who would take these tears as a form of enlightenment. Great Sage Fu believe that if you take this, Prince Zuko, we shall be able to discern the true nature of your bending."

"The nature of my bending?" Zuko breathed out. "What does that mean?"

"Firebending is unique because it does not require our element to exist outside of us to call upon its power. That is why firebending is a superior bending form. But that does not mean we are unable to bend external fire."

Zuko knew that, of course. Almost every basic firebending form required initial techniques centered around controlling fire from candles or something of the sort.

"Bending external fire, however, is usually more difficult. It is often not our own fire and firebending is inner flame. But that was not what I saw when we had our last lesson. When I saw you relaxed enough to do what was most natural, your chi moved differently. From what I could discern, it seemed as if you immediately reached for  _outer_  flames."

The young prince blinked. "But that can't be right. I am  _awful_  at control techniques." He winced and hung his head a little in shame. "It took me weeks just to control candles."

"Yes, but that is because firebending is taught as an inner art. A form that focuses upon inner mastery. Perhaps if you were taught differently…"

Zuko dared not let himself hope. What were the chances that he, out of all the firebenders in the nation, just happened to be a poor bender because of something as miniscule as a teaching technicality?

"Do not take this lightly, Zuko," the Firelord said gravely, seemingly reading his grandson's mind as always. "Should this be true, it would be something that not even I have had experience with. The path would be no easier than it is now. But perhaps it would be a stepping stone."

Zuko clenched his hands into fists in his lap, his mouth tightening. "My Lord, if I took these dragon tears, we would know for sure?"

"Perhaps." There was a wariness in the Firelord's tone now. "But there is a reason why I have taken my time in informing you of this. No currently living citizen of the Fire Nation could tell us exactly what would happen should you take these tears. The last to have reportedly done so died when Firelord Sozin was just coming to power. There is no solid evidence that there won't be side effects or what the special properties will do. The Great Sage only  _believes_  it will help us solidify the truth."

"But the Great Sage should know," Zuko protested. "We could trust him, right?"

"Great Sage Fu ensured me that records never reported any lethal results."

"Then it should be fine!"

The Firelord narrowed his eyes and gave his grandson a look that silenced him. " _Never_  jump so rashly into any decision, Prince Zuko. I tell you all of this, yes, to hear your choice in the matter. But know that even if you choose not to take the tears, I will only continue to train you as we are now – harder even – so that you may be worthy as a prince of the nation."

Zuko opened his mouth to reply that, yes, he would be taking the tears. His instinct told him so, because when would he ever get another chance like this? Hadn't this been what he had been hoping for? Some explanation for why he could not match Azula that wasn't pure difference in their inherent skill? But then he realized that maybe, just maybe, there would be negative consequences. What if the tears were just myth? What if the tears affected him in a way that made things  _worse_? There was always the possibility. And even if the tears did confirm his different bending style, wouldn't that just prove that he wasn't normal after all? That he was some weird twist of nature?

"I will give you time to think on it –"

"No!" Zuko burst out, raising a hand before quickly retracting it and bowing in apology. "Forgive me, my Lord. But I already know my answer."

"Prince Zuko, I told you not to rush into this decision."

But this wasn't a rushed decision. The young prince knew already in his heart that no matter how much time he was given, his answer would be the same. Zuko didn't like feeling so horribly uncertain, but he knew that this might be the key to helping his firebending. Maybe if he did this, he might be able to become stronger – strong enough to stop anything bad from happening again and strong enough to help in ways he had never been able to before. If he wasn't willing to do something like this, then he didn't deserve to be the next Crown Prince. It was simple enough when he thought of things that way. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he passed on something that could have made him better for his people and for the people he loved.

"I will take the tears." For the first time since speaking with his grandfather, Zuko allowed no hesitation or waver in his voice. "I have decided."

Golden eyes met golden eyes for the longest time, the seconds passing by as grandfather searched for something in his grandson. The last of the sun's rays were dipping beneath the horizon now and its gentle orange glow framed both of their faces. Then, as Agni gave way to Tui, the Firelord nodded once in acceptance.

~0~

Five days later, Zuko handed Lord Eishun a scroll detailing exactly which families had agreed to an interview and which had not. He struggled to keep a straight face as the nobleman scanned the contents with agonizing slowness. The man had an unnerving ability to show little of what he thought and his default scowl was never a comforting one.

Eventually, Lord Eishun looked up and pulled his mouth into a thin line at Zuko's waiting form. "Acceptable. It should be enough."

The prince, personally, thought it was more than acceptable. Considering the number of names on the list, the fact that Zuko had managed to not only visit each but also bring back three quarters of the families' consents was something near impossible. He  _wouldn't_  have managed it at all if Lord Wang had not taken the time to inform the prince at what time of day each noble on the list was best available and how they were best approached. It expedited the process considerably when Zuko did not have to visit each house multiple times in an effort to catch the lords.

But that was beside the point now. It would do nothing to bring up his scribal woes to Lord Eishun. Zuko had to remind himself a few times that he was not a prince right now, but a member of a noble's entourage who should be grateful for his position.

"If that is all my lord requires for today –"

The door behind Zuko opened mid-sentence, slamming open to reveal an older woman. The prince's eyes widened at her presence. Although he had never met her, he knew immediately that this was the nobleman's wife. According to Lord Eishun's files, she was as fervent in her love of the arts as her husband and twice as excitable. Lady Modai might have silver hair now, but she was still the most stunning erhu performer in the Fire Nation. Little wonder why she and Lord Eishun made a fair match.

"Darling!" she crowed, barreling into the room as if her husband wasn't conducting important business. "We are down one in the music group today!"

"Oh!" It was as if a switch had flipped in the nobleman the moment his wife had come in. What had previously been a firmly controlled face melted away to one of significant concern at Lady Modai's words. It was perhaps the first time Zuko had not seen indifference, disappointment, or anger on the man's face. "That is absolutely horrible, my dear. Is there anything in my power I can do to help you?"

"I just need somebody to play the tsungi horn, darling," the lady fussed, tugging in distress at her fine robes. "The composition would not be complete without it!"

"Surely there is somebody you could call upon?" Zuko could detect genuine worry in Lord Eishun's voice and wondered how on earth this clearly mesmerized man was the same as the one who did not hesitate to reprimand any such behavior otherwise.

Lady Modai buried her face in her hands. "No, all the other players are booked today!"

Lord Eishun looked as if his very world were falling apart at his wife's plight. He held the scroll Zuko had given him loosely in his hands as if they were now a forgotten unimportance in the face of his lady's priorities. The prince had seen and experienced many different things since the start of his time as a scribe, but never had he seen one quite so odd as this. Very few married couples he had ever met – including his own parents – showed quite this much of themselves to an audience.

Quite frankly, Zuko very much wanted to go so that he wouldn't have to witness this personal crisis. He delicately bowed to catch Lord Eishun's attention and tried again, "My lord, if that is all –"

"Boy!" Zuko's words had clearly gotten the nobleman's attention, reminding the lord that there was another person in the room still. "My wife is in need of a tsungi horn player. You shall play."

Lord Eishun looked as if he had stumbled across the greatest solution in his entire career. The prince just struggled to keep his jaw shut despite his astonishment. "But I do not know how!" he responded before he could stop himself.

"Oh! A new musician to teach!" Lady Modai looked positively thrilled, her hands clapping like a child who had just found a new toy. "You always know what to do, darling!"

Then, to Zuko's growing horror, she was grabbing him by the forearm and pulling him out of her husband's study. The prince tried to pull away as best he could without seeming rude, but the noblewoman had a vice-like grip and they were already further into the estate. He had not signed up for this! Scribes were not meant to be a lord's family play-thing! They were to conduct the lord's business in any way possible, yes, but this was certainly not business.

Zuko tried to think of a way out, running any possible avenue he could through his mind with a noblewoman bodily dragging him around. But Lady Modai walked like a woman on a mission and had him dragged into one of the estate's larger rooms before he could formulate some excuse. Already inside were about five other musicians, sitting with their instruments in hand and clearly waiting for the noblewoman to begin. All of their eyes zeroed in on Zuko the moment he stepped inside, measuring him.

"We have a new tsungi horn student!" Lady Modai exclaimed in excitement, pulling him in and thrusting him into one of the floor cushions. "This will be so exciting!"

"Does he know how to play at all?" asked the musician sitting in front of a zheng.

Instead of answering, Lady Modai turned to Zuko expectantly. The prince swallowed and said, "Not at all."

"Then how will we be able to practice today's composition?"

"We will!" insisted the lady of the estate, picking up a large tsungi horn from the side of the room that had clearly been meant for the missing player. "He will learn as we go!"

"I – what –?" But Zuko did not get much further in his protests before Lady Modai deposited the horn into his lap. He gasped and grabbed the instrument before it fell over, surprised at its weight.

"Do you know how to read music?" the lady was asking, pulling sheets of music scores seemingly out of nowhere and placing them in front of him. "Surely you were taught to do at least that much in the Academy?"

"Yes," the prince conceded, suddenly glad that his tutoring had covered the basics. "But I cannot read very well or quickly."

"That's alright! It is good that we won't have to teach you how to read the notes. You can just try to follow along!"

Zuko personally thought this was all a terrible idea and he would undoubtedly ruin the entire performance. But he was here and there was no escape. So he let out a small sigh of resignation and settled into a spontaneous afternoon of music playing.

By the end of the session, Zuko had probably managed to play only one measure correctly. But Lady Modai was so ecstatic with the "progress" that she proclaimed the prince to be their new tsungi hornist despite the remaining musicians' grumblings. The prince was of the same mind as the others, but who was he to deny his lady's strange need to take him on as her new musical project?

~0~

The day finally came when Zuko received summons from his grandfather.

Qi had informed him, after the servant's delivery of the message, that Zuko's schedule was cleared for the entire day. It was obvious to the prince that his scheduler was confused as to why, but Zuko was too nervous himself to tell the older boy. Telling meant that Qi would eventually ask for the results, and what if things didn't go as expected? It was better, Zuko told himself, to see how things turned out first before saying anything.

The summons called for Zuko's presence in the Fire Sages Capital Temple – a rather large departure from the regular courtyard sessions. The location itself was not strange since the Firelord had mentioned the tears were in the catacombs. But the prince could have been summoned to the South Pole and he would have still gone if it meant he would receive further help with his firebending.

The Fire Sages Capital Temple was located just north of the royal palace. It was an elegant display of architecture, consisting of three tiered towers with multiple eaves and designed with various shades of dark red. Torches lined the pathway and the low walls surrounding the temple with each lit at all hours in respect for Agni. A faint scent of incense permeated the air the closer one got and at certain hours of the day, the low sound of the drums on the highest floor of the central tower could be heard throughout the capital. A direct path led straight from the palace to the temple since fire sages were so often needed for ceremonies, and it took only a few minutes for Zuko to reach the gates once outside the palace.

Zuko had only visited the temple once when he had been very young. Most of the time, he saw the fire sages conducting their duties outside of their central location of worship, but his mother had wanted him to see where they paid their respects to Agni. Here lived the central authorities on spirituality in the Fire Nation and the young prince could feel a tickle of apprehension as he neared. He was already unsure of what to expect, but the almost otherworldly atmosphere of the temple did little to ease him.

At the entrance, just outside of the gates, stood a fire sage already waiting. His deep red robes combined with the tall ceremonial headdress and red crystal holding his shawl in place made it easy to identify his occupation. Upon seeing the prince approaching, the sage bowed low at the waist. They were the only Fire Nation citizens who did not fall to their knees in the presence of the royal family for they knelt only to Agni and other spirits of great power.

Zuko bowed slightly in return to display respect and waited expectantly.

"Prince Zuko, it is an honor to formally meet you. I am Fire Sage Shon. The Fire Lord is already waiting for you inside. If you would follow me?"

The gates behind the sage opened as if on cue. Motioning with a hand, Fire Sage Shon led the prince inside the compound and up the stairs to the central tower. As they walked, Zuko noted with interest the intricate carvings of flames and dragons in the entire structure and looked curiously at the circular design on the tower's floor. It was there that the sage paused, at the very center, and beckoned Zuko to stand beside him before placing a hand and seemingly pushing flames into the ground. Zuko's eyes widened as fire expanded from the sage outward, following some unseen path to activate a mechanism that opened the floor beneath them. It was a good thing the sage had pulled him towards the middle because if he hadn't been standing where he was, he would have fallen on to the descending stairs now revealed.

Zuko spent the next few moments thinking how very cool it was that there was a secret entrance that could only be opened with firebending. He had never seen anything like it and wondered if there was anything similar in the palace he wasn't aware about. The idea entertained the prince's thoughts before his mind focused back upon his current situation. Ever so slowly, he began to feel slightly anxious again once he realized the magnitude of what he had agreed to and the further they walked underground, the deeper uncertainly dug its claws into him.

At the very bottom of the stairs was a whole set of corridors, extending deep into dimly lit chambers. There were torches along each pathway, but the complete silence made the place seem a touch eerie despite the easy visibility. Zuko turned to his left to scan his surroundings, only to let out a shout of alarm. A massive maw filled with teeth startled him into instinctively calling flames to his fingertips and tensing for an attack. But then he realized that there was nothing to fear. It was nothing more than an enormous skull of a long dead dragon.

Zuko suddenly knew exactly where they were. "The Dragon Catacombs," he murmured, stories of the ancient burial sites for the Fire Lords coming to his mind.

"Yes," Fire Sage Shon nodded. "Here is where your forefathers lie."

It wasn't exactly where Zuko would have gone to achieve enlightenment, but there was no point in voicing that aloud.

The sage was already taking off and motioning once again for Zuko to follow. They passed by countless murals, each depicting a different scene and a different piece of history. The prince would have liked to pause at each, but knew that now was not the time. Eventually, they arrived at a small door, distinctly less grand than any of the other chambers they had passed by previously. Fire Sage Shon knocked, announcing his presence, before opening the entrance to reveal a small room.

Zuko wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but all he saw was just a simple cavern. The ceiling was low and the walls were rough and unsmoothed. It was completely devoid of any décor and the only thing to fill the place were two other sages and the Fire Lord himself. Automatically, Zuko fell to his knees and bowed to his grandfather before rising again and offering polite bows at the waist to the other sages in the room.

"Prince Zuko," the Fire Lord acknowledged, his face inscrutable. "You have already met Fire Sage Shon. These are Fire Sage Huo and Great Sage Fu. I have requested for their presence today."

The young prince almost blanched at the statement. He had not counted on there being an audience.

"This is your final chance," the Firelord said, his eyes boring into Zuko's. "Are you sure of your decision?"

He could, hypothetically, refuse and leave right here and right now. But he had made his decision already, back during his dinner with the Firelord over bowls of rice and fish.

At Zuko's nod, the Great Sage, dressed in deeper red robes and embroidered gold flames on his chest, stepped forward with a small glass vial in his grasp. His wizened hands extended out towards the younger prince and Zuko tried to keep his hands from shaking as he reached for the tears.

The vial was cool to the touch, so innocuous yet so terrifying at the same time. Zuko didn't know what to expect and so he expected the worst.

"You must drink it, Prince Zuko," Great Sage Fu instructed. "We are not sure exactly what will happen afterwards, but we have studied the scrolls enough to have a fair idea."

Which, honestly, didn't bode well. The fact that they expected anything to happen at all was bad, but for them to believe three sages would be needed was worse. What were they all here for? The only small consolation Zuko had was the fact that his grandfather wouldn't be putting him through this if it were lethal. Right? The Fire Lord had split apart his family, destroyed his every sense of normalcy, and ruined everything he had ever known. But he was still Zuko's grandfather and sometimes – just sometimes amidst his conflicted emotions – the prince could believe that the man genuinely cared.

Zuko opened the vial and wasted no more time on thought. He quickly tipped the glass back, practically tossing the liquid contents down his throat, and waited as the sages settled into a triangular formation around him. At first, nothing happened. Zuko waited for the proverbial boot to drop at any moment, his hand clenched into fists in preparation. But as the time passed by and he felt as normal as ever, he dared to think that perhaps this was all just a fluke. That whatever the sages had read in the scrolls were just words on a page that held stories of old.

Then, Zuko felt his world tilt on its axis and suddenly nothing else mattered except for his blinding fear.

His flame, the constant light that warmed his soul and body since his very birth, winked out of existence as if the tears had doused them away. The disappearance was instantaneous; one moment he was fine and the next he was horribly, horribly  _empty._  Where there was once strength and energy was now only a void, a hole in the very center of who he was.

Where had it gone? Zuko immediately and desperately searched for his flame again, tried to find it in the darkness. Nothing came as he tried again and again and again, grasping to no avail. His attempts failed over and over and it wasn't working _why wasn't it working?_  It  _can't_  be gone.  _It can't be._  This was worse than any pain he could have ever been inflicted with. This was  _nothingness_. It stripped him of his being, of his self, and it left him ragged. Any passion, any drive, any desire to even exist as he was had been sapped away and there was nothing except  _get it back, get it back, get it back –!_

It was like he had been thrown into polar ice and left to disappear forever. He was  _so cold_. Distantly, he heard sobbing and screaming but all he could think about was – spirits,  _Agni had left him_  and now he was abandoned and – and –

He couldn't take this. He was going to go  _mad_. He felt himself beginning to come apart at the edges, unraveling as he tried desperately still to reach for something that was no longer there. He couldn't do this, couldn't live without his flame. He was sinking into a darkness he hadn't even known existed –

_Agni, please_. He was begging now, groveling for his flame  _please –_

He was reaching for anything,  _anything._ Anything that even resembled warmth now because there was  _nothing_  in him and he was  _so, so cold –_

And as if by some miracle, he briefly sensed something. Something  _not empty_ and  _warm_  and he was grasping at it like a dying man, heedless of anything else because oh, it was so warm _,_ so  _alive_ and there were  _three more!_ He tugged at it and  _snarled_  when he felt resistance and pulled harder and harder,  _more, more!_  He  _needed_ this, he had to have it –!

"Zuko! No!"

Who was trying to stop him? Who was trying to keep him in this emptiness and this cold and this loneliness –  _he was so afraid –_

"You must make your own flame!"

Make his own…? But why when he was  _so close_  to taking the warmth around him?

"Zuko you must! You are strong enough, I know it!"

Strong? No, no he wasn't, right? And he was  _empty_  now –

"You are a prince, Zuko! You are of the royal blood of Sozin! Never give up!"

_Never give up._  He had heard that before. Never give up without a fight.

"When there is nothing, we create! When there is darkness, we bring light!  _Make your own light, Prince Zuko!"_

That's – that was right. Hadn't his mother once taught him when he had been small and scared like he was now? That he didn't have to search for light. That all he had to do was  _spark_ –

Zuko was thrown back into awareness, slammed back into reality like he had been falling and only now did he come crashing back. He heard shouts and exclamations and felt arms surrounding him like a cocoon. But more than anything else he was  _warm_ and  _alive_ again and he felt blessed inner fire encompassing every part of him.

He heard sobbing again, and only distantly realized that  _he_  was the one crying. Tears streaked down his face and he felt pain all along his neck and chest. There was a bone deep exhaustion in him as if he had been fighting for days and all he wanted to do was go back to bed and stay there forever. He was warm again and no longer empty, but he felt as if he had been wrung dry.

Dimly, he felt the arms that were holding him shift, feeling a hand – his grandfather's, he realized – cradle his head into a shoulder. Zuko didn't bother to open his eyes as tears continued to fall and tried to block out the world even as he heard the Fire Lord shout furiously, "You did not tell me it would hurt him!"

"Your majesty, we warned –"

"You did not warn me of  _this_." The Fire Lord's tone had descended into a deadly hiss. "You did not tell me what it would do to his _fire_."

"We beg your forgiveness!" The sage speaking sounded weak, barely managing to form words almost. "We did not know. We would have been more cautious –"

"You should have been cautious with your prince  _from the very beginning_! Excuses! You are fortunate I stopped my grandson from draining you all!"

"We beg your mercy! Please! We were only doing as you commanded!"

"You –!" The Fire Lord broke mid-sentence, taking a few deep breaths. Then, "Very well. I shall consider it. Until I decide in full, you will all say nothing of this."

"Yes! Yes, we swear!"

The last thing Zuko could remember as he felt himself slip into unconsciousness were strong arms lifting and holding him close. The gentle rhythm of walking lulled him into a calm and he clung instinctively, because right now all he wanted was an anchor to keep him grounded and safe from ever falling back into emptiness again.

~0~

Zuko woke to the gentle touch of sunlight on his face, the sun's rays breaking through his windows. He felt his inner fire respond and felt energy diffuse throughout his body. The prince winced a little at a sudden wave of weariness despite the warmth and turned his head to see his grandfather seated at the side of his bed.

Memories of what had happened came rushing back, and Zuko immediately had to stifle a sense of drowning. He was no longer there anymore and his flame was fine. It was inside, warming him, and he was safe in bed. There was nothing to fear here.

"Zuko," his grandfather began, his voice the gentlest Zuko had ever heard.

The prince replied tremulously, trying to smile a little. "I – that wasn't what I thought was going to happen at all…"

"I too did not expect such a thing to happen. Please believe me, Zuko, when I say that I would never have given you the option of the tears if I had known what it would really do." There was something unreadable in the Fire Lord's eyes as he reached to grasp his grandson's hand. "I am sorry for what I have put you through."

Zuko didn't bother to hide his astonishment at the apology, given so freely and so openly. "I – you don't have to be sorry. I chose to do it."

"I would never have let you do something like that. Not after Lu Ten –" The Fire Lord broke off then, but Zuko saw for the first time such sorrow in his grandfather's eyes.

"You didn't know," Zuko responded. "Just like the fire sages didn't know, right?"

Something hardened in his grandfather's face at the mention of the fire sages. "They  _should_  have known. They should have researched more thoroughly. They almost cost me another grandson!"

Zuko watched his grandfather quietly, too exhausted still to argue and too raw. They were both stripped bare right now, any sense of propriety between them nonexistent. "Did you see what you needed to? Did the tears help?"

"Yes," the Fire Lord replied slowly. "It clarified many things, Zuko. It confirmed what I saw before and so we will adjust your training accordingly. Your firebending lessons will begin again once you have fully rested – but then, and only then."

His grandfather's tone brooked no argument, so the prince only nodded tiredly. Perhaps this was for the best. He could barely move his body right now, let alone firebend.

"Thank you, grandfather. You helped bring me back. Helped me bring my fire back. Thank you for being there." His grandfather had called to him, Zuko remembered. Had told him what he needed to hear in the moment so that he could escape the emptiness that had seemed never ending. Without the Firelord's words, Zuko knew he might have been lost forever. He raised his eyes to his grandfather's and tightened his grip on the Firelord's hand. "Thank you."

"You do not need to thank me, Zuko."

The Firelord leaned forward, reaching out his other hand to grasp the nape of Zuko's neck in a comforting motion the prince had not thought possible from the most powerful fire bender in the nation. There was a fierce warmth and softness in his grandfather's expression, and it was one Zuko recognized.

He had seen it many times before on the face of a person who had once fed the turtleducks with him and who had once loved him with all her might.

* * *

There is something I want to make clear: this realization of Zuko's firebending is not a sudden "power up" of sorts. It, in no way, will catapult him into stronger abilities that will have him rivaling his sister any time soon. You can think of it like this: it is somewhat like the difference between a visual learner versus a verbal learner. To apply to the Avatar world, the Fire Nation teaches in a way that appeals to verbal learners because almost all benders learn that way. But Zuko is visual learner and so has been trying to learn firebending in a way that is more difficult for him. Figuring this out does not give him automatic power, but will allow him to move forward more quickly than he has been.

This is not canon. I just thought to add it to the story because I liked the idea haha.

Other than that, I simply beg for you guys to forgive any grammatical/spelling errors I have in the story. I try to do multiple read-overs, but I do miss things.

Till next time!


	13. Part 1: Growing Storm

**Part 1: Growing Storm**

The royal palace was many things, but it was never stagnant. It was constantly shifting, calm to chaos within a matter of minutes. You never knew when the latest news of the war would come in or when nobles would clash or what the Fire Lord's disposition would be like that particular day. If there was one thing Qi had learned, it was that one must take all of this change and adapt – or find another profession all together.

Qi was one of the youngest schedulers in the palace. He had a knack for knowing how to best manage everybody's life and it showed after he had graduated from Academy. Many would call him young and accomplished, but the scheduler still felt the need to prove himself especially now that he was serving in the inner ring. The work here was both harder and more rewarding than he might have ever imagined. Who else could boast of being scheduler to the next Crown Prince – at seventeen years of age no less? Qi had been deemed fit enough to serve a member of the royal family and that alone had been the honor of a lifetime.

But with great honor came an enormous amount of responsibility. When Qi first met Prince Zuko, the eleven-year-old boy had seemed so small and out of place. Like a lost turtleduckling of sorts. And somehow, before he had even known it had happened, Qi found himself listening to the prince when needed and offering advice as he would to an underclassman at Academy. It was sometimes all too easy to think himself in the company of a normal boy. Prince Zuko behaved as one might expect of a child raised within the palace: stubborn and proud. But it was just as often that the boy exhibited a gentleness and thoughtfulness Qi would have been hard-pressed to find in anybody.

Perhaps that was why the scheduler found himself genuinely worried as he watched the prince wave away his servants' efforts to make him more comfortable. The younger boy smiled and insisted that he was only a little tired. But Qi was certainly not fooled and he knew Meili, Ting, and Hua were not either. Prince Zuko was clearly not himself; dark rings colored the underside of his eyes and his skin was an almost sickly pale. It was almost hard to believe Qi had just seen Prince Zuko that morning healthy and whole. Now, not even a few hours later, the prince was returned and ill.

 _Something_ had happened, but now was not the time to ask what.

Before Zuko's servants had entered the prince's quarters, the Firelord himself had been in the process of stepping out of the room. It should not have been surprising that the Firelord wanted to check upon his own grandson's health. But their nation's rulers had never been known for their nurturing side and it was slightly odd to see so revered a figure doing something almost mundane. At the sight of his majesty, all four had stopped in shock to drop to their knees immediately.

The Firelord had seemed occupied, barely motioning for them to rise. But then his eyes had focused upon Qi and he stopped the younger boy–  _him! A lowly scheduler!_  – as the other servants continued into the prince's room. Qi had struggled not to let his awe and nervousness show on his face as the Firelord analyzed him alone in the hallway. Then, a single command: "You will come to the throne room after your visit."

After the Firelord left Qi standing in the hallway, it took a few moments for Qi to come to terms that the most powerful man in the nation had taken the time to speak personally to him – and a few moments longer to ignore the dread clashing in his stomach. An audience with the Firelord was an honor, but it certainly made a boy wonder why he was being summoned in the first place. Qi had always known hypothetically that he would someday be within the inner-folds of the palace simply because of who his charge was. But he had always imagined he would be in the throne room at Prince Zuko's side, serving as an aide once the younger boy grew old enough to begin direct dealings with the court. Not alone and certainly not at the Firelord's personal request.

The shadows were getting long, the first of the sun's rays dipping beneath the horizon when Qi left Prince Zuko's quarters. He immediately headed straight for the throne room, worried that perhaps he had taken too much time.

Qi was halfway down the Hall of Portraits when he spotted what seemed to be a pair of fire sages striding towards him. In the low lighting, the scheduler could not make out much of them. But from what he could see, they were close and murmuring fiercely to themselves. So preoccupied were they, that neither sage noticed Qi until they were only a few steps apart. Abruptly, both ceased their conversation and shuffled quickly by in uncharacteristic silence.

The scheduler frowned but continued on his way until finally reaching the arched entrance covered with red drapes emblazoned with the Fire Nation symbol. Qi paused at the threshold, uneasily eyeing both royal guards manning the entryway. Neither of them even twitched at the sight of him and he tried to ignore how horribly intimidating they seemed in their red armor. Now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts when the Firelord himself was waiting. Qi forced himself to take a single, deep breath in preparation, blocking out any other distractions, before pushing the drapes aside and entering the very heart of the Fire Nation.

Qi hadn't known what to expect, but the first thing he noticed was the enormous wall of flame separating the Firelord from his audience. It was automatically intimidating, a show of power that left no doubt as to who ruled the country. The enormous pillars lining the entirety of the hall almost made for giant sentinels and the dragons carved into the surfaces of the room seemed alive in the flickering light. The scheduler had never felt so out of place and very nearly walked right back out.

A sage – the Great Sage – was already prostrating himself on his knees before the throne, in the midst of an audience with the Firelord. Qi did a small double take when when he realized that this was no regular meeting. Any dignity that might have befitted one of the Great Sage's stature was gone as he begged, "Mercy! Please, have mercy."

"I believe I showed leniency when I allowed your inferiors their freedom. The crime rests upon you so that the rest of your temple may be spared. Make no mistake, Great Sage Fu, this  _is_  mercy."

Qi felt a shiver run down his spine. The Firelord's voice could freeze the room over; the nation's ruler was  _angry_.

"Please, your majesty, I had not known what would happen –"

"I have heard enough. Enough of your explanations. You  _shall_  be punished for your carelessness and you  _will_  take it as a true citizen of the Fire Nation should."

The Firelord then noted Qi's presence. The ruler's golden eyes seemed sharp as cutting metal and the younger teen had to try very, very hard to keep his anxiety in check. He prayed to Agni that the Firelord's current mood would not be taken out upon him as well.

"Come," the lord murmured and beckoned Qi forward.

The scheduler obeyed without question, moving swiftly until he was level with the trembling Great Sage and falling to his knees in a bow. Then, he lifted his head and remained seated to await his majesty's word.

"Great Sage Fu has been careless in his duty and has placed Prince Zuko in danger. I would have him executed, but I wish to hear alternatives –"

"Agni, please, your majesty I beg you not to do this –"

The Firelord turned, his face twisted in fury at the Great Sage's interruption. "Speak again, Great Sage, and I shall make sure that you will never be able to form another word." The fire surrounding the Firelord flared higher to mirror his ire. He was power and strength and sheer rage, and there was not a flicker of emotion upon his face as the Great Sage devolved into sobs.

"Now tell me, scheduler Qi, what alternatives do you see available?"

Qi knew that failing to comply would mean immediate punishment, and recognized a test when he saw one. For reasons unknown, the Firelord wanted to see what his grandson's scheduler could come up with on the spot.

"It is a grave crime to place a member of the royal family in danger." Agni, Qi hoped his voice wasn't shaking as badly as he thought it was. It was so hard to think when a Great Sage – known for influence and strength in his own right – was tearfully begging incoherently into the floor. "Execution is mandatory of any such traitor to the Fire Nation."

"I did not ask you what the law said, boy, I asked for what  _you_ thought _."_

"I – I do not know the entire situation and therefore cannot give fully informed judgment." As a scheduler, it was not even his place to give judgment! "But I would say that if you wished to keep the Great Sage as perhaps a source of knowledge or wished to punish him differently, imprisonment would be the only other option."

"Why imprisonment?"

"Banishment would allow him to travel and as a sage of the capital he knows far too much. Allowing him to keep his post even after punishment might foster a sense of leniency with the law. Others might believe that the Great Sage received no punishment due to his status. Keeping him isolated for the rest of his life under careful watch of guardsmen, however, would prevent any information leakage and allow you access to his knowledge."

Qi finished his explanation with barely a breath, so terrified of whether the Firelord would like his reasoning. He did not know the nation's ruler well enough to gauge what he would prefer to hear and had simply said what made most logical sense. Qi was not trained to deal with this sort of life-or-death decision making and it had him sweating underneath his robes.

Unimaginable relief flooded Qi's entire body when the Firelord gave him a curt nod. "Your points are valid and worth taking into account. A good scheduler must be able to make such deductions quickly in order to best serve his lord and anticipate any events that must be planned for." The Firelord then turned to the Great Sage. "But it is as you said first: there is only one punishment for those who dare harm my kin."

It was a death sentence. Immediately, the Great Sage was shouting again almost incoherently, his eyes wild and his arms reaching out in a plea. He was a man desperate and scared and angry. But this time, the Firelord did not even deem to grace the display a glance. He only continued to watch Qi as the guards entered to drag the man out of the throne room with all the procedure and formality they would have given sack; it was as if the Great Sage was already nothing more than an inconvenience taken out of their presence.

By tomorrow morning, there would be a new Great Sage.

"Scheduler Qi."

The scheduler had physically clutch his hands together in front of him to maintain his composure. The screams and sobs were still audible beyond the room. "Y-Your majesty?"

"You are responsible for my grandson's plans. You streamline Prince Zuko's day and ensure nothing extraneous makes it to his ears. As any competent scheduler should. You were recommended to my grandson because you proved yourself exemplary with others. But to be a servant of the royal family means you must be the best. You must go beyond your station."

The Firelord was unruffled, still in a seated position as if he hadn't just ordered the execution of the Fire Nation's spiritual leader. "According to reports, you have proven yourself suitable to remain Prince Zuko's scheduler. And as such, there is something you must understand: I will have nothing impeding my grandson's training. Nothing. He is young and it has only recently come to my attention that he has perhaps not been receiving proper teaching. Until he is ready to stand on his own, I shall ensure that no more heirs to the throne will be threatened. Do your job well and you shall be rewarded. Already, I have sent to have your family moved to the second ring. But fail…"

Qi didn't need to be told what would happen if he should fail in his duties.

"Prince Zuko will one day ask to have time scheduled to see Prince Ozai. You will not allow this to happen. Ever. Everything you plan, you shall plan so that my grandson never has a chance to come into contact with Prince Ozai. Only when I give my permission will it ever be acceptable. If he should ever interact with his sister, Azula, you shall report so to me directly. If he should ever attempt to search for his mother, you shall also report directly to me. Any contact whatsoever with his previous family, you shall not delay in bringing to my attention."

Relations within the royal family, it seemed, were far from ideal. Qi had a million and one questions running through his mind, and his hands were still trembling. But the professionally trained side of him that wasn't terrified beyond words was already mentally planning how on earth he was going to make sure his charge had nothing to do with the very people he had grown up with. There were so many possibilities he couldn't account for, so many uncertainties. And if he slipped up…

Qi shouldn't have expected anything less from the royal family. Suddenly, this was no longer just a difficult job. It was a  _lethal_ one.

Here was the chance he had wanted to prove himself in the inner ring, an opportunity he could clearly not turn down. There was no choice. The scheduler bowed, his forehead to the floor. "As you command, your majesty. My life and hands are yours."

~0~

"You look terrible."

Zuko sighed as he threw a few copper and silver pieces on to the ordering counter of a small restaurant. It was a quaint establishment and a staple of many scribes since it was nearby headquarters.

The aftereffects of taking Dragon's Tears seemed to linger longer than its actual function did. Since returning to his scribing duties that morning after a day's break, Lord Eishun had very pointedly told Zuko that they would only run over the plans for future interviews verbally for the day. At first the young prince had been surprised at the lord's leniency. But then the elder man had irritably said that there was no point in overworking his scribe when Zuko looked like he was ready to collapse. They had finished the day's work quickly, and the only other plan the prince had was a small music session with Lady Modai after a long midday break. It was, quite frankly, unheard of to have so long a gap and Zuko had sought to fill it with Shaojun's company. The prince owed the older scribe for all of his help after all.

"I was under the weather," Zuko explained as they settled into one of the tables. "I do feel better now though, honestly."

Shaojun's face was far from convinced. "Kuzon, I'm pretty sure even ghosts would think you're far from the picture of health right now. What in Agni's name are you doing here today?"

"Well, maybe you are right. Seeing your face  _is_  bad for me…"

"I'm just trying to be a responsible senior by watching out for clumsy rookies," the elder scribe laughed, playfully jabbing Zuko's shoulder.

The prince smiled back, relaxed in a way he could never be in any other aspect of his life. "I know. Thank you."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Shaojun grinned, rubbing his hands eagerly as a server approached them with trays of their food.

Both of them dug into their bowls, stopping occasionally to discuss aimlessly of their scribal duties and poke fun at each other. Conversation was never too serious with Shaojun and it was something Zuko enjoyed immensely. The older boy was one of the only people the prince dared to lower his guard around. It was simply fun to not have to maintain the barrier that would exist if Zuko were here as a prince and everything was a little more positive when they were just two teenage boys trying to make the most of their daily jobs.

Zuko would have preferred it if they were left alone and to themselves. But the elder scribe was rather popular and longer they sat, the more several other scribes on break also joined their table. Those joining were not particularly fond of Zuko, and the opposite was also true in turn. When he was alone, they did not hesitate to ridicule his alias's colonial roots. But in front of Shaojun, they dared not to bring it up since it was obvious that the older scribe had taken a liking to Kuzon.

Therefore, while Shaojun was aware of the prejudice Kuzon was most likely experiencing, he could not be sure of who exactly was instigating since Zuko made a point to never complain. The prince was certainly not going to lay down all of his problems for the older scribe to see; Shaojun was already doing enough by helping Zuko adjust.

Some of the scribes' favorite things to discuss during breaks were the latest circles of gossip in the capital. During the few times Zuko was actually there to listen, everybody would talk about the nobles' relations incessantly. The prince would have thought it horribly unprofessional had the scribes not operated with an unsaid rule of confidentiality. Anything that was said amongst them largely stayed that way unless somebody was silly enough to reveal too much to another scribe serving the opposing lord. It was a delicate balance of contributing to the group discussion while simultaneously censoring information depending on the listeners.

Today, it seemed the topics of choice were not the nobles of the second ring, however.

"So what do you think of the new line of succession?" one boy asked, taking a bite into a bun.

Zuko immediately tensed, using every once of self control he had to appear unruffled. He had known that his family was always under scrutiny. But to actually hear said scrutiny was an entirely different thing altogether.

Another scoffed. "That's old news. News that nobody really knows the truth about anyway."

"But we just wake up one day to the news that Prince Zuko had replaced Prince Lu Ten? A little odd, don't you think?"

"What's really odd," one scribe further down the table waved, "is how the Firelord completely bypassed Prince Ozai and gave the position to his  _grandson_. A grandson I've heard isn't too bright."

"You wouldn't know that," Shaojun frowned. Zuko felt an irrational urge to hug the older boy. "Have any of us actually met Prince Zuko?"

The scribe threw his hands up in defense. "It's just what I heard."

One boy to Zuko's left raised his voice. "Here's the real question: why hasn't the traitor princess been caught yet? Princess Ursa tried to  _murder_ our Firelord. How is she not yet executed –"

Zuko roughly stood up, slamming his palms into the table and shoving his seat backwards. His face could not possibly be devoid of emotion as he was trying to achieve, but right now the prince could care less. Not when he was boiling with anger. Nobody spoke about his mother like that. Mother was sweet and kind and loved him (right?) but none of the scribes here could know that. They spoke about things they could never understand.

"Kuzon…?" Shaojun asked in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Not feeling too well again," Zuko mumbled, turning away and leaving as fast as he possibly could without looking like he was fleeing. The prince could feel the older scribe's worried gaze on his back as he exited the restaurant and slight guilt tugged at Zuko's gut for leaving without explanation. After all, Shaojun was a fantastic friend to Kuzon the scribe.

But who was he to Zuko the prince?

Zuko was only few buildings away from the restaurant when he nearly bumped into another scribe coming down the road. The prince had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't registered where he had been walking. Immediately, Zuko opened his mouth to apologize, but froze when he recognized who he had come across.

The Wang family's scribe sneered at Zuko's flustered expression, brushing off his impeccably pressed robes as if cleaning himself of the near encounter. There was only hostility in his voice when he asked, "You're Kuzon, aren't you? Lord Eishun's new scribe?"

Zuko did not know the other boy's name. He recognized the scribe from his first visit to the Wang household to ask for an interview, but had never been introduced. As far as he knew, they had never even spoken to each other. What had the prince done to antagonize the other boy so much already? "I am. And you are Lord Wang's scribe? I'm sorry, I don't know your name. You are…?"

"Cai," the other boy sniffed. "You visited my lord the other week. And you're planning another visit soon."

Zuko nodded. "I am. Yan agreed to –"

" _Young Lord_  Yan," Cai corrected, scowling at Zuko's lack of propriety. "And I don't really care, colonial. Let me make one thing clear: keep out of my way.  _I_  am Lord Wang's scribe and you aren't going to take that from me."

The prince had to actually blink and take a few seconds to catch up. "You think I'm trying to take your place as Lord Wang's scribe?"

"Aren't you?" Cai crossed his arms and moved forward in an attempt to intimidate. "First you come in, and Lord Wang orders me out of the room. Then you have a private audience with him and Lord Quiang and Young Lord Yan. Now you're planning even more visits." The scribe jabbed a finger into Zuko's face. "I see what you're doing. You're sick of being Lord Eishun's scribe and so you're finding ways to get into Lord Wang's favor –"

"What?" Zuko gaped, astonished. "I'm not –"

"Don't think I'm falling for your tricks, colonial. I haven't been allowed into any discussion regarding you since last week! Me! His scribe! I did not graduate at the top of my class to have some second-rate nobody edge me out of my own assigned household!" Cai's face had slowly taken on the shade of a red pepper during his tirade, his cheeks flushed with anger. He looked only seconds away from tossing his book bag into Zuko's face. "But I'll make sure Lord Wang sees what sort of background you come from. Who can trust a country peasant who barely qualifies as a scribe?"

The prince was beginning to feel himself unravel around his edges. He was tired, and Agni knew his control was being tested today. His temper was already short from his less-than-ideal lunch. Zuko did not want to take these insults quietly; he was a prince! But Kuzon would. He wouldn't demand apologies for such slights. Kuzon would just take the comments and move on with his job since that was all he knew.

So Zuko grit his teeth and clenched his fists before lowering his head. "I'm sorry if that is how it seems to you, Cai. But the truth is that I am only doing as my lord asks. If you have a problem with that, you are going to have to talk to Lord Eishun yourself."

The prince brushed past the other boy before any more could be said and continued down the road. A disgruntled scribe was the least of his worries right now. After all, he had a tsungi horn to play with Lady Modai in fifteen minutes and he had yet to master the few bars she was hoping to perfect today.

~0~

It had been a little over half a year since the newly dubbed Siege of Ba Sing Se ended its 600-day campaign. During that time span, soldiers from the army had been slowly returning to the Fire Nation as the country's military sought to determine its next movements and strategies for the war. So much had been riding on the siege, on General Iroh's success, that there had been a hope of finishing everything before the year ended. But now the Earth Kingdom was only shaken, and what damages had been done to the outer wall had already been reportedly on the mend with earthbenders working tirelessly to fix the breach.

Zuko had only noticed these things in passing, in small comments made by his disgruntled tutors and from numerous murmurings from the soldiers when they thought he couldn't hear. Such information had hardly registered when he was so preoccupied with his new position and his new life. There was so much going on that the young prince's world had consisted entirely of accomplishing his duties. But even he, buried under all of his studying and scribal assignments, could not miss the news that the very last cohort of the army would be returning today. And General Iroh with them.

Zuko had no idea what to expect. So much had changed.

Zuko was now fully recovered from the Dragon's Tears. It had taken a good few days before he had felt himself again and during that time, his grandfather had demanded the prince do nothing in terms of firebending other than basic candle meditation. Zuko had been frustrated and angry at the command; all he wanted to do was practice now that they knew there was a way to improve his bending. But Qi had placated him by saying the Firelord only meant well. What good would it do to have Zuko practice firebending only to have it tire him out and draw out the recuperating process?

So the young prince had done as he was told, and now he was finally back to normal and more restless than he could have ever thought possible. His grandfather had agreed to begin proper training again just yesterday during their customary dinner when the royal healer's report had proclaimed Zuko healthy. But any celebration on the prince's part was quickly cut short when a messenger interrupted the meal to bring news that the last of the army would be arriving within the next day.

Any and all plans were placed on hold in light of such information. Qi had cancelled all of Zuko's classes. Lord Eishun had sent a hawk to inform the prince that there would be no scribing. Even the noblemen's courthouse and scribal headquarters had shut down for the day. The entire capital was frozen and it was as if the caldera itself were holding its breath in anticipation. Finally, the Dragon of the West, the Crown Prince, the heir to the throne, was returning. Even in shame and defeat, the Fire Nation and its people were eager to see General Iroh come home.

It had been like this since as long as Zuko could remember. It was an honor to welcome those of royal lineage back and more often than not, Fire Nation citizens tried their very best to be present for the return. This particular homecoming was of special interest for it was the first time in living memory that a child of Sozin's line had lost so spectacularly. The prince didn't like to consider it, but he had no doubt there would be equal amounts of sympathizers and dissenters present. Some understood why General Iroh had retreated. Others could not believe the Dragon of the West had been broken by one death. But no matter the side, almost everybody unanimously agreed that it was a waste of resources and lives to have given up at so crucial a point in the campaign. Generals were supposed to be stronger than the average soldier, people said. Generals – and especially one heir to the position of Firelord – needed to see beyond their own pain and serve the people.

Zuko was not sure how he felt on the subject. Now more than ever, he understood why the people thought the way they did. After all, the last few months had been filled with lessons on royal duty. But emotionally, he understood his uncle. He had  _known_  Lu Ten, the way he smiled when he was excited and the way his nose wrinkled when he was upset. Zuko still grieved sometimes when nobody was looking, and a great part of him was just happy to know that his uncle was finally coming home.

When the day came, the young prince woke to a capital waiting with baited breath, as if the entire caldera did not dare to make a sound for fear of scaring away the returning army. There was a careful tautness in the air Zuko felt he might have been imagining. But he went through his normal routine regardless, without his servants today since they had to be amongst the greeting crowd.

It was not protocol for Zuko, a member of the immediate royal family, to greet the army outside the palace gates as everybody else did. In the past, he and Azula would wait in their palace quarters while their mother and father went to the throne room to be present for the debriefings. Business was always first, and Zuko accepted that. But it did nothing to ease his restlessness. One day, when he was of age, the young prince would be allowed to be present in the throne room to speak with the returning generals and admirals too.

For now, Zuko tried to keep his mind busy instead. He pulled out his assignments to get a head start and unrolled a few scrolls of Staff Sergeant Quiang's weekly reports. There was usually nothing too exciting in Sergeant Quiang's writing. Simple records of shifts made the majority rather dry to read, but Zuko found it interesting when the notes on guard interactions were included. Sergeant Quiang took the effort to write the general thoughts of the royal guard, and even some complaints or suggestions that were made during shifts. They were worthy of note and certainly worth looking into for improvement. But Zuko did not have the power to do anything notable about it without alerting everybody that he was somehow spying. Knowing the information was technically not outside of a prince's rights. But it would take a lot of explaining as to how he knew the content of the guards' conversations in the first place. So he opted to bring up some of Sergeant Quiang's notes during his dinners with the Firelord as simple inquiries instead, hoping that his grandfather would do something about it.

It was roundabout and probably ineffective, but Zuko could think of nothing else. Not until he was more experienced and more involved. The reports served as one of the many motivations for Zuko to keep improving in his training as prince so that he may actually make larger differences in the future.

The young prince saturated himself with reading and writing for a few hours until even his work could not keep his restlessness in check. It was too much knowing that he was missing out on greeting the returning soldiers, and he opted to walk to the nearest courtyard for meditation to clear his mind. He itched to practice some of his forms; they had undoubtedly suffered some during his time off and would be a great way to release his jitters. But Zuko resisted and settled into a seated position in the grass.

Today was an especially quiet day. With everybody except the Royal Guard awaiting the army, there was only the soft whisper of a breeze to accompany Zuko as he placed a small candle (lit by non-firebending means) in front of him and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to relax, to focus only upon the cool touch of the wind gently tickling his collar and stray hair. Summer was still in force, but the breeze hinted at the nearing autumn, circling delicately around the columns lining the the space's perimeter, dancing with the candle's small flame, and wrapping around the small trees reaching towards the sun.

Zuko took several breaths in time and slowly felt his limbs loosen. His grandfather had told him to focus upon sensing external fire when meditating. "Do not reach out with your inner flame as a medium of control as you are used to," his grandfather had warned. "It will be against everything you have been taught so far, but it must be done." And he had been right. Meditating without spreading inner chi was so contrary to what Zuko had been learning his entire life that his first few attempts yielded nothing. How was he supposed to interact with the environment around him without his own chi?

But then the young prince had remembered briefly what it was like to allow his mind to wander, to simply feel without reaching during his last lesson with his grandfather. Once he did the same, relax and allow what was natural to happen, the prince finally consciously experienced what the Dragon's Tears had confirmed: interacting with external, independent flame was more natural for Zuko. It was not an exploration of the environment with his own chi, but rather grasping the existing chi around him. Zuko was touching the flames "bare-handed," and in doing so he found that he had to control another's energy rather than his own.

It was odd to say the least. Everything felt different. Independent, external sources of flame had a life and figurative identity of their own that he had never sensed before. The only way Zuko could describe what it was like before the Dragon's Tears revelation, was by comparing it to coating his tongue in oil before eating. A mouth coated with oil tastes nothing else no matter the food that passes through. In a similar manner, Zuko might have been tasting and feeling the outside flame before, but he experienced nothing unique except for his own fire. Everything had been, more or less, similar to his own flame in body and temperament. Now, he was actually experiencing each external flame's unique signature for the first time.

In concept, he was aiming to accomplish the same thing as any other firebender: controlling flame. But instead of making a connection with his chi and controlling himself as a means of controlling external fire, he was now directly controlling the fire's own energy. It was not easy; Zuko had to adjust and manipulate something that almost had a will of its own.

Yet, despite the steep learning curve he had to overcome, it was as if the prince were seeing the world with new eyes again. Like he had been given a whole universe to rediscover. That alone had made taking the Dragon's Tears worth it because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn't nervous to firebend anymore.

~0~

When the sun passed its zenith, Zuko sensed another flame enter the vicinity. It was strong, and burned with an age that the young candle did not exude. Carefully controlled power. It approached slowly, gently.

Then, a hand touched his shoulder.

"Prince Zuko." It was the firm, almost coarse voice of his grandfather.

Zuko was disappointed that it wasn't his uncle, coming to surprise him like he always did after campaigns. But the young prince wasted no time in opening his eyes and turning to bow. "Grandfather," Zuko greeted when he confirmed nobody else was present to witness his casual address.

"I am sure you are full of questions," the elder man said, and Zuko heard a tightness in his grandfather's tone that he hadn't heard in a very long time. "Come inside where fewer ears will listen and we shall speak."

The young prince obeyed immediately. The Firelord was not happy about something and Zuko felt a whisper of a familiar anxiety. Something was wrong.

Zuko quickly snuffed out the meditation candle, carrying it back inside the palace behind his grandfather. The elder man led them into one of the inner drawing rooms, where the prince occasionally had one of his classes. There, a tea set was already on the low table in the center and a servant was waiting on hand. Once both Firelord and prince was settled into their respective floor cushions with their tea served, they were left alone to speak in peace.

There was a tense silence that Zuko dared not break, his mind racing to figure out what might have gone wrong. He waited painstakingly as his grandfather took what seemed like an eternally long sip of his drink. Then, with the cup resting on one hand, the Firelord spoke.

"Prince Iroh has chosen not to return to the Fire Nation."

Zuko wasn't quite sure how to react. It was so sudden, so abrupt that he only stared uncomprehendingly at his grandfather. "Uncle Iroh –"

"Your newly-named father," the Firelord corrected.

Zuko flinched despite himself and said, with difficulty, "Father…is not here?"

"No, Prince Zuko. Not for now. One of his colonels reported that following the aftermath of the siege, Prince Iroh chose not to return to his country. Instead, he decided it was necessary to undertake a spiritual journey before returning to his post." There was now an undeniable anger in the Firelord's voice.

Zuko felt compelled to speak on his uncle's behalf and hesitantly suggested, "Maybe my…father needed to have some time alone because of Lu Ten?"

"It does not excuse him." The Firelord roughly lowered his cup on to the table, the tea now steaming hotter than it had before. "He is the  _Crown Prince_. I have chosen to tell you this news in person, Prince Zuko, for there is a lesson to be learned here. What do you believe this lesson to be?"

"A prince must serve his country first," Zuko responded almost instinctively. It was one of the most prominent lessons he had been taught since becoming second in line to the throne. "His duty is to the Fire Nation and its legacy."

His grandfather was nodding. "Yes,  _always._ You  _must_  understand, Prince Zuko. We cannot be like other men. I understand that Prince Iroh has lost, and lost greatly. I know how much Lu Ten meant to my son. But that does not allow him the luxury of leaving his men without command and of leaving his responsibilities behind. For him to leave everything is to leave the burden on the shoulders of those still here to fix his mistakes. Instead of facing the obstacle in front of him, he has chosen to run away."

Zuko was a mix of emotions again, his heart aching at the loss of Lu Ten but his mind absorbing what his grandfather was saying with alarming consensus. To be royalty was to put the Fire Nation before one's own personal needs, wasn't it?

"Prince Iroh has left the country without one of its pillars for an indeterminate amount of time. And he did so on a whim. For that, he will be punished when he returns."

Immediately, Zuko balked, his heart talking before his mind could catch up. "Must he?"

There was anger and fury in the Firelord's eyes when he looked at his grandson, directed not at Zuko, but at something else entirely. "You  _need_ to understand. He has left his country, his people, his  _family_  in its hour of need. This is the largest loss we have had in a century. He has abandoned us all –  _you included._ "

Zuko was at a loss for words, the vehemence with which his grandfather spoke shook him like a storm and the compounding implications of the news was finally catching up to him.

"Prince Zuko, while Prince Iroh lives he will remain the Crown Prince in name. But who do you think must now take his place during his absence? Who now must be prepared to take the throne should anything occur to me?"

The young prince could barely breathe. If something were to happen and Uncle Iroh were not immediately present to the take the throne, then the next in line would be…

"You, Prince Zuko. The responsibility is now yours. You must be prepared to sit on the throne so long as Prince Iroh does not return."

~0~

"No, like this," Ty Lee explained with a patient smile on her face. "You have to keep your center of gravity just a little more to the right."

Azula scowled. This was the fifth time Ty Lee was explaining the newest set of cartwheels to her. It wasn't like the royal girl to take more than two tries to master something. But gymnastics had never been Azula's strongest suit and that was why she was having her perky friend teach her in the first place.

"No frowning! You will get it in no time, Azula. You're amazing!"

During their first few months of acquaintanceship, Ty Lee's cheerfulness had grated on Azula's every nerve. She was too careless, too painfully happy. But it was more useful than not to keep the painfully loyal girl around, and so Azula had learned to censor anything that wasn't useful when it came out of that constantly smiling mouth.

"I know I will," Azula dismissed. Then, she glanced over at Mai. The broody girl was curled up under one of the courtyard's trees reading a book as usual. "Mai, why aren't you practicing with us?"

"It seems like a lot of work," she replied as usual, barely looking up. "Cartwheels aren't my thing."

"Oh, come on, Mai!" Ty Lee begged. "Just one try?"

Mai rolled her eyes before closing her book and placing it in the grass. She pushed herself to her feet and then stood with her arms crossed. "Fine."

They practiced for the next hour, falling over one another and staining their clothes green in more than one place. It was nice, when Azula allowed herself to the luxury of thinking so. Here, she was alone with only those loyal to her and nobody was around to ruin her day otherwise. Lately, it was all too easy to spend the whole day angry now that Zuko wasn't around for her to release her stress.

Just as Azula was beginning to land all of the forms Ty Lee was demonstrating, she saw in the corner of her eye a very familiar figure crossing one of the open halls at the periphery.

Father was so rarely home anymore. He was busy, busier than ever and she understood why. Father was a prince and he had important business to attend to, especially now that he was third in line for the throne. Fewer nobles were willing to bend so easily to somebody who had clearly lost favor with the Firelord. Azula understood why her father no longer ate dinners at home with her, why he could no longer teach her personally as often, and why he might have snapped at her once or twice. Father still loved her, his perfect daughter, and this temporary until he had regained what he had lost.

But that did not mean Azula had to like it.

She varied the target of her anger on a daily basis. Sometimes it was her senile grandfather who had taken away Father's birthright, sometimes it was her mother for somehow ruining everything in a single night, and sometimes it was her brother. Azula had not seen Zuko since his audience with the Firelord and although she never tried particularly hard to catch him, she sometimes wondered what he was doing. Probably princely things. So long as Zuko wasn't babbling her role in sending Mother, then she could care less. It was easier not to think about when she knew that  _she_  should have been in his place and Father in Uncle Iroh's.

Azula felt excitement at the sight of her father and immediately pulled away from Mai and Ty Lee to go to him. "Father!"

Prince Ozai was reading a scroll in his hands, his eyebrows pulled into a focused furrow. He lifted his head upon hearing his daughter and watched her approach. "Azula," he said. "I see you have brought your friends over."

"Ty Lee is showing me cartwheels. I think it will work perfectly with the latest form you showed me –"

Father held up a hand, stopping her. "We can speak about this later. I must focus on important tasks first, Azula."

She deflated at once, disappointed. It wasn't too long ago that he would have gladly spoken with her and encouraged her creativity. But she shoved aside the feeling to nod in understanding. Prince Ozai noted her obedience, gripping her shoulder in approval before he was gone again, down the hall to take care of his daily business. Azula didn't allow herself to watch him go and instead headed back to the girls waiting for her.

"My dad does the same thing," Mai said. Both girls were strongly attuned to Azula's moods. "They're just busy."

"Nobody asked," Azula snapped.

"Maybe you can help in some way," Ty Lee tried to supply helpfully. "It would lighten his aura, I'm sure."

At that, Azula smirked. "Finally, something useful out of your mouth today. I have been thinking along the exact same lines, Ty Lee."

Mai and Ty Lee exchanged a glance, suddenly serious and listening carefully. They had known this was coming, after everything that had happened. It was unspoken, unsaid. But they knew from experience that Azula never stopped plotting her next move, searching for the next step up. She could be formulating something for weeks or even months, gathering her thoughts and finalizing her plan. But it was only when she herself brought up an idea to them did they actively try to participate. They left the planning to her because that was how Azula worked. Both girls were simply always prepared to obey when they were needed.

Now was one of those times.

"I've been thinking, girls, that maybe it wouldn't hurt to get some useful information on the competition." She crossed her arms, her eyes alight with the fire of action. "We are going to find who in the Court is giving my father trouble and return the favor."

~0~

It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, when the preparations for the next day's interviews were finally completed. The three of them – Zuko, Lord Eishun, and Benki – had been working non-stop since the prince's recovery and it had been painstaking, detailed work since the lord demanded perfection. Benki's duty was to schedule when each child would come and that was not a job Zuko envied. Nobles were busy and to spare any of their children's time took a great deal of negotiation. Sometimes one family desired a time that another required, and it became a mess to decide who would get the preferred slot. Some had almost rescinded their agreement out of sheer lack of flexibility, but Lord Eishun had picked his scheduler well and Benki had somehow managed to fit everybody in for the next week.

Zuko's duties involved planning the interviews themselves, writing appropriate questions under Lord Eishun's discerning eye and contributing what he believed would work best for each family. The prince had met with all the children when first requesting their participation and he had been careful to note the disposition of each. Some of the children were Lei's age, too young to answer more complicated questions. Others were more shy and required carefully worded inquiries that wouldn't push them. Lord Eishun took all of Zuko's observations seriously and a small part of the prince was happy to be contributing effectively. Being carefully listened to and considered was something Zuko was experiencing in all aspects of his life now and he couldn't say that he disliked it.

The young prince was proficient at his scribing abilities now, finally mastering the art of keeping up with Lord Eishun's breakneck speed. Sometimes he had to write unspoken assumptions that the noble failed to say aloud and he had learned that most of his job involved rephrasing Lord Eishun's words for Court standards. Still, the job never left Zuko idle and he was grateful for it. Ever since hearing that Uncle had yet to return, the prince found it much easier to drown in work than have time to think about how he felt. In the end, nothing had really changed since he had been named prince. But just knowing that Zuko currently had no buffer to the throne was enough to make all of his duties weigh more heavily than they had before.

Zuko was packing his bag and Benki was gathering his scrolls to leave for the evening when a knock on the the study doors drew their attention.

"Come in," Lord Eishun called out distractedly. He was still looking over some last-minute paperwork.

A housekeeper entered with her head bowed and reported, "My lord, Lord Rikyu requests an audience."

Lord Eishun glanced up with a frown. Lord Rikyu was the noble who had proposed the elimination of the arts programs. "Reply to his message that I would be willing to accommodate after the next week of interviews. We are very busy now."

"My lord, Lord Rikyu did not send a message. He is here in person."

Zuko saw Benki stiffen out of the corner of his eye and wondered how poor the relationship between the respective lords was. The prince had only heard Lord Eishun speak of Lord Rikyu professionally, when discussing how to best counter his arguments in front of the Court. There had never been the impression of animosity. The situation, however, indicated differently. It was odd enough that another noble had taken the time and effort to appear in person, but for an advocate of the contradicting side to impose himself without announcement was almost an insult. It showed that Lord Rikyu did not value Lord Eishun's time, assuming that it could be easily disposed at another's whim.

Both scribe and scheduler waited for their lord's decision, neither daring to speak. Then, "Benki, you may retire. Kuzon, come with me."

Zuko hastily dropped his bag back down and pulled out his writing tools. Lord Eishun was a severe man and a taskmaster. But since beginning his role as scribe, the prince had learned to differentiate between the noble's various tones. Right now, the Lord Eishun's voice was carefully level, something he only did when he had to control his irritation.

Scribe and lord made their way to the guest room, where all visitors were seated for an audience. They made fast time for all of Lord Eishun's entourage knew that it was never a good idea to be in their lord's way when he was in a mood. Upon arriving, Zuko immediately focused his eyes on Lord Rikyu sitting in wait with a cup of tea that one of the servants had most likely provided out of hospitality.

Lord Rikyu was thinly built, his body almost dwarfed by his fine robes. He was not quite Lord Eishun's age for his hair only revealed occasional strands of white. His mustache, sporting the same sparse whiteness, was cut to a severe point, but his face was almost genial at first impression. Zuko had taken the time to briefly research Lord Rikyu and what he understood was that the noble was a man of rising power. His philosophy heavily focused upon strategic growth during warfare and was popular in the current day. His position in Court reflected that, with his propositions often voted upon positively.

It was almost poetic how the two nobles so blatantly contrasted each other. Lord Eishun presented old wealth and moderate interest for the war at best while Lord Rikyu promoted new advances and near fanatic enthusiasm for the war.

Zuko swiftly settled into his now-traditional seat slightly behind Lord Eishun's left side. The prince had his brush poised and ready in moments, waiting as was expected. Lord Eishun, though, was slowly lowering himself into a comfortable position at the front of the room, taking great care to ensure nothing was out of place. He took several long minutes to indicate his displeasure at Lord Rikyu's blatant lack of notice. Lord Eishun might have given into the other lord's request for an audience, but he would be sure to take Lord Rikyu's time in retaliation. Finally, Lord Eishun raised his eyes to the other noble as permission to speak.

"Lord Eishun," the other lord began, a pleasant smile on his face. "You honor me by allowing this meeting."

"You are welcome," Lord Eishun replied according to protocol. His expression spoke quite the opposite. "It must be urgent business indeed to come so close to Agni's daily rest."

Lord Rikyu was unfazed. "It is. I understand that we hold separate views on a great many things, Lord Eishun, but I have always believed us to be civil and honorable."

Zuko was getting the distinct impression that everything the man had just said was a severe understatement. He glanced up from his writing to watch Lord Eishun's response.

"I am sure," Lord Eishun agreed dryly. "But surely you did not travel all this way to speak of our honorable relationship?" Zuko's lord was being rather blunt, but that was not uncharacteristic of the elder man. He was well known to despise political small talk.

"I apologize for disturbing you at such an hour, Lord Eishun, but I have been hearing word that threatens your integrity."

At that, Lord Eishun's eyebrows rose. "Then you must be listening to spirit talk for there are no grounds for such word."

"I assure you, I am only speaking with you to check the validity of any statements against you," Lord Rikyu smiled and then he spread his hands open, palms up. "I come in good faith."

"Then speak of what you have heard, Lord Rikyu. And I shall tell you whether what you hear is truth or not."

Zuko saw a spark enter the other noble's eyes, a disquieting look that Azula sometimes got when she already knew the answer to a question. "I hear word that you are enlisting the statements of children who attend the Royal Academies. That you are collaborating with some of our colleagues to compile false testimonies."

It was about the most twisted version of the truth that Lord Rikyu could have possibly delivered. Zuko watched wide-eyed as Lord Eishun's face took a gentle shade of red.

"You insult me and my cause," the lord of the house said, his voice quivering with anger. "I allow you into my estate and you bring only false accusations before me."

"It is not true, then?"

"It is most certainly  _not_."

"Then you are not interviewing children before the next Court meeting?"

"That is not within your right to know, Lord Rikyu."

A look of disappointment shuttered over the visiting noble's face, disdain turning his once welcoming face into a frown. "Lord Eishun, if you are speaking falsely –"

"Even if I were, I would not confide in an individual who interrupts my day without decorum and proceeds to challenge my honor."

"Lord Eishun, I would remind you that it is against Court rules to bring forward compromised documentation. And I as a man of true honor will not allow –"

"Lord Rikyu!" Zuko's lord had risen to his feet, his face now twisted in unhidden fury. "I will not tolerate this insult. We shall settle this amongst the Court and if you were a true man of honor, you would not come slinking to question a competitor's motives like an unsightly worm desperate for a crumb."

Lord Rikyu was controlled, but even he could not hide the reddening in his own cheeks. "You speak too bluntly, Lord Eishun. As you always have. One day it will get you in trouble. I will take my leave since I am no longer welcome. But I hope, for your sake, that your claims are true because rest assured that the Court will not stand for falsifications. Withdraw your stance now and you shall be spared the storm."

Scribe and lord watched the other noble leave without another word, his departure like the chill a winter's night. They remained silent even long after Lord Rikyu was no longer present in what felt like an effort to comprehend that the conversation had just really happened. Zuko had always believed Court intrigues to be subtle and nuanced. He had received the impression that the lords of the second ring moved with strict protocol ensuring propriety at every step. But that had been a direct attack, an undisguised threat. It was very clear that Lord Rikyu had known they were going to begin interviews and had taken the initiative to mislabel the entire endeavor. He wanted his motion of focusing class studies on war to pass and he was willing to face Lord Eishun directly for it.

"Boy."

Zuko jerked to attention, sitting upright. "Yes, my lord?"

"I want you to keep the record of this meeting safe and stored should we ever require it. I do not think we shall be filing this for official review."

"Yes, my lord." Zuko frowned, looking at Lord Eishun with a touch of worry. What he was about to ask was outside of his bounds, but he still spoke, "What shall you do, my lord?"

Lord Eishun was silent, his gaze focused on something else entirely. He was thinking and weighing what had transpired in his head with no trace left of his previous anger. The man seemed to reach a decision, though, because he turned to his scribe with his lips flattened into a determined line. "We shall proceed as scheduled," Lord Eishun commanded. "This only confirms that we are moving in the right direction. Lord Rikyu would not have come if what we were doing was not a threat."

Zuko felt the corner of his lips twitch upwards, the worry he had felt for his strict but not-unkind lord melting away. This was the tenacious and uncompromising noble he knew. "As you wish."

* * *

I know many of you have been asking about Uncle Iroh (and I understand because he is such a great character). But in canon, Iroh went on a spiritual journey for an undisclosed amount of time after losing his son. It was never described (at least not in the cartoon) when he came back. Therefore, I am going to presume he was gone for about a year. He will return in about another six months. In this AU in particular, Iroh would feel no urgency to return because Firelord Azulon is still alive to run the country.

So we will definitely continue to see more Azulon and Zuko as well as the effect each will have on the other.

Please forgive any grammatical/spelling errors! I try to read through several times for any obvious mistakes, but I do miss some.

Till next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was first posted on FFnet and I therefore have a few chapters written already. I decided to post the story on here as well! 
> 
> Notes from FFnet:
> 
> I had been watching the episode "Zuko Alone" when I saw the part where Azulon was giving out Ozai's punishment. But we never actually heard the ACTUAL punishment, right? All we did was hear it from Azula's mouth and if there's one thing we all know about her, it's that SHE ALWAYS LIES (unless the truth fits her purposes better). So I'm going to take that into account and spin my own tale XD


End file.
